What A Difference A Day Makes

Well, after my last dreary entry, things picked up. For one thing, the weather got warmer. Today we enjoyed a balmy 64 degrees! I went for a two hour walk along a beautiful river that runs along the periphery of the old part of the city. It is really lovely, and I was stripped down to one layer, in a tee shirt. It felt marvelous. Above is a picture of the river with the Cathedrals in the back ground.

I realize now that I was not prepared for the cold weather. I had plenty of layers to keep my warm, but I am not a bundled up person. I prefer to be barefoot, but not pregnant, in shorts and a sports bra. I'm happy when then temperatures exceed 90 degrees.

I realized a lot of other things after my melt down. One is that I failed to recognize or admit to myself, some of the difficulties involved in this adventure and how much I was extending myself. I have become accustomed to living in my own home, my own space, of being able to get up when I want and make a cup of coffee, of being able to eat when I want or not eat when I don't want, and most of all to eat what I want. I am living in someone else's home, eating what they prepare when they prepare it. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining and the people I am living with are wonderfully kind. It is just different and I have to adjust.

I don't speak the language and very few people here speak any English. I am learning, but I am a long way from being able to express anything other than basic ideas, and even that I do at a snails pace. So I can go to meetings, but I have yet to share, and even if I did share, it would be very rudimentary. I am not able to express what is going on with me yet. And the meetings are pretty much all men. It must be a cultural thing in Spain, because I'm relatively certain the disease is not sexist.

I am also at the age where I lose words in my native language. I go to say something and my ability to recall the  word has slipped a gear, the rolodex is spinning but not hitting on anything. So, trying to build vocabulary in a new language is somewhat of an uphill battle. I have visions of English words falling out of my head, as I try to cram in Spanish vocabulary.

And I go to school with people who are celebrating their twentieth or twenty first birthdays. I have tattoos older than their parents. They study my generation in their history classes. They are so very young. They drink night and day, stay out all night, watch the sun come up, sleep in class, come to class still drunk and/or with the odor of stale alcohol weeping from their pores, have colds, pink eye, and chest congestion. They drink beer during the morning break. The only subject of conversation is how long they drank, how much they drank and when or where they will drink next.They go to exciting places like Lisbon, Barcelona, Paris and all the memories they bring back are whatever they can remember of the bars they spent their time in while in the city. Been there, done all of that and more, never realized how boring and small my world was. But they are young and will hopefully have the opportunity to visit these places again.

Me being me, never thought any of this would be a challenge. I never thought of it as putting myself out there, taking risks, or being brave. Sometimes I can be so dumb, so oblivious, and so in denial. It wasn't until I had my melt down this past week and I received so many kind and encouraging words from friends, that I took a look at the reality. It is a challenge, but it is also an adventure. I am learning, not only Spanish, but things about myself. For one thing, most of the time I don't think of myself as 65. I think of myself as 20 or 25, somewhere in that age range. I am sometimes surprised by my age. It is actually amusing. I have a firm grip on a lot of things that do not serve me well. Letting go, even of things that are useless, or actually harmful or painful, has never been easy for me. I hold onto what is familiar, even if it is painful or unproductive, because I am comfortable with it.

So it is time to practice letting go.I was reading the Tao of Daily Life during my melt down and their is a story, parable if you will, about a guy hanging from a branch off a cliff with a tiger above and a tiger below and rats chewing on the branch he is holding. He sees a yummy strawberry and releases one hand from the branch to grab the strawberry and eat it. It goes on to explain a lot about how this relates to how we live our lives, but my favorite thing I read this morning was,
 "The Tao manifests itself in life, and the characteristics of life is that it grows. Life is constantly exploring new territories, taking chances, and going places it hasn't been before. If we do the same, we will quickly find that life is fresh and exciting and full of possibilities. We will see that living in the present is both easy and exhilarating."
So I wish for you an  interesting life. hehehe.