Gifts of the Journey

Gifts Of The Journey Is Making A Move - Follow Me

Thu, 12 Feb 2009 20:57:31 -0500

After a good bit of work, I think I’m ready to show you the way to the new home I’ve created for my blog. You can find future updates to Gifts Of The Journey at it’s new location.

(Not my photo image)
Just click on the ruby slippers.

I will be keeping this site live and linked to the new one so if you ever want to come back and read through the archives they’ll be tucked away here waiting for you. Keeping this site active required a slight change to my new address. You can find my new site at,

http://www.giftsofthejourney.wordpress.com

Please visit me there and let me know what you think. While I’m going to miss the creative flexibility of iWeb, I’ll enjoy having a few different features available through WordPress. I hope you’ll come by for a visit and leave a message to say hello. I’d also appreciate any WordPress tips you may have too.

Please remember to change your RSS feed to the new address and if you have been kind enough to include me in your blogroll, please change it there as well.

See you soon!

Almost Ready

Tue, 10 Feb 2009 17:54:52 -0500

We’re back from our romantic honeymoon and I’ve got some stories I can’t wait to share with you. I just need a couple more days to recover from the ferocious flu I brought back with me. Fortunately, it held off until we made it home, but I’ve been so ill that I’ve not been able to do much more than lay about sniffling and sneezing and coughing like a four pack a day smoker.

Well... I have been able to edit a bit of the pictures we have from our wedding and our trip away. We managed to accumulate a little over 1700 pictures between the wedding and the honeymoon so I’ve had plenty to do while I’ve been on bed rest. I’m leaving you with a picture from our trip that John took. Maybe you can guess where it was taken and perhaps you’ll be able to spot me in it.

I’ll be back in day or two with more, but for now I’m resting and editing and catching up on all of your blogs.

(Remember...you must email me if you have a comment since I’ve had to turn mine off for now so click on the red letterbox in the top right side of my main blog page to say hello)

Wedding Day Smiles

Mon, 2 Feb 2009 23:13:27 -0500

Well, I promised a picture or two and I’m back to deliver. It was a lovely day today. Crisp and cool, with blue skies and none of the rain that Cornwall is famous for. We did have a bit of a surprise though towards late afternoon when it began to snow...and snow...and snow. Now we have family who couldn’t make it home on the icy roads, sleeping all around the house tonight.

I’ll say more later about the wedding itself, but this new bride needs a little sleep. We’re scheduled to leave on our honeymoon tomorrow, but we’re not sure how the snow may affect our travel plans.

Think a good thought for us and thanks to all of you who’ve sent me such warm wishes on this special day. I’d like to get back to you personally, but will need to wait until after the honeymoon.

Thanks so much for your interest and support.

(Remember...you must email me if you have a comment since I’ve had to turn mine off for now so click on the red letterbox in the top right side of my main blog page to say hello)

February 2, 2009

A Wedding Celebration For John & Elizabeth

Mon, 2 Feb 2009 18:37:43 -0500

By the time you read this we will have said our vows and most likely cut the cake. There will be toasts and tears and time to celebrate as we make a commitment of the legal kind to reinforce the commitment we made with our hearts on an ancient bridge almost a year ago.

I’ll be back later with a few photographs before we leave on our honeymoon, but for now let me leave you with one of my favorite quotes about marriage by George Eliot.

To Be One With Each Other

What greater thing is there for two human souls
than to feel that they are joined together to strengthen
each other in all labor, to minister to each other in all sorrow,
to share with each other in all gladness,
to be one with each other in the
silent unspoken memories?

(Remember...you must email me if you have a comment since I’ve had to turn mine off for now so click on the red letterbox in the top right side of my main blog page to say hello)

Maggie Namjou, The Rest Of The Story

Sun, 1 Feb 2009 07:11:44 -0500

As some of you may know from previous posts, there is a woman by the name of Maggie Namjou who has been intent of creating havoc in my life. She began harassing John my fiance about 20 months ago (which was 8 months before we met) after he corresponded with her online and decided after 3 or 4 emails that she seemed a bit odd and not right for him. He politely discontinued all contact with her and wished her luck and thought that would be the end of it. As you know, if you’ve been following the drama that goes with Maggie it has been anything but the end of it.

For the last 20 months she has harassed first him and now me with unending emails and middle of the night phone calls. We still have voicemail messages where she alternated between crying and pleading to angry and hate filled in her endless attempts to create a response. She likes to claim in her emails that she just needed a listening ear, but he never took her calls and for months it became so bad that he had to turn off his answering machine. His friends and family couldn’t leave a message because it was constantly filled with the disturbing ramblings of Maggie. When I met John he immediately informed me of the barrage of unsolicited emails and calls that he was being bombarded with. He let me know that since he could not tell if a call from the U.S.A where I was living at the time was from me or from Vermont where Maggie Namjou lives that he would not be answering the phone as he didn’t want to have to speak directly with her. He thought that no response would cause her to lose interest and go away. That never happened.

When I came into his life, I was a bit put out by having to gauge how I could or couldn’t reach him by phone because of Maggie’s delusions of a nonexistent relationship versus my real and ongoing one with John.

As is my way, I naively thought that a rational email to Maggie asking her to stop her calls and emails while citing her behavior as intrusive and unwelcome might shock her into moving on. Since she clearly is incapable of recognizing the error in what she continues to do, it has been a useless battle.

She turned her anger on me as I wrote in Bitterness & Lies after she began commenting on my blog. I wrote a post titled Bovvered after watching her reading my blog for months. When I wrote it, I did not name her, but rather let my readers know about the problem that existed in order to protect myself and them. It was only after she left a comment as Maggie, confirming what I had been saying that I introduced her formally by way of her name. As Maggie likes to create alias and contact people, I wanted to be sure she was not doing that with any of my readers and pretending to be me. Believe me, I’ve tried multiple ways to shake her off, but she is like those burs that some people refer to as hitchhikers, she’s difficult to get rid of once she forms her attachment.

Until recently, her South Burlington, Vermont IP address that covers Williston, Vermont where she appears to live much of the year was showing up on my sitemeter several times a day. After I sent her an email telling her that I could see her so denying she was on my site was senseless, she went to an anonymous proxy site so as to visit in disguise. Of course, this doesn’t work when one hits a site and leaves a message at the same time.

She claims now that if I remove the Bitterness & Lies post that she will leave us alone. However, based on the amount of times she has said the same in the past in her endless emails about never contacting us again...I believe this to be a total lie. Therefore in order to protect myself and my reputation...I’ll will not remove the posts that explain the frequent lies and comments Maggie likes to leave at all hours of the day and night.

I am growing weary of deleting the garbage she likes to leave around my blog and have decided to close comments until after I move to a new site and can moderate comments. I am so sorry that something special to me has been infected by the unceasing negativity and bitterness of this woman.

She is quite malicious and as John said previously in his comment on Bitterness & Lies,Maggie Namjou is quite adept at trying to convince people that she is a victim.

Maggie Namjou is no victim...quite the opposite, she is all of the nasty things she accuses others of being and more.

I have been in email contact with some of the other people she has harassed in the past and I hope if nothing else when people meet this woman online in the future, if they do an online search they will realize that contact with Maggie Namjou may be the beginning of a “relationship” that will exist only in her mind and a contact they wish they’d never made.

I plan to post a few more pleasant posts in the next day or so which will hopefully wash away some of the negativity and ugliness that follows in the wake of contact with Maggie Namjou.

As I said, I’ll be closing my comment section for a while...and if you wish to reach me, please send me an email. I hope for the next week or so until I work out the moderation details you will continue to comment by way of email. My email address can be reached if you click the red letterbox in the top right corner of my main page or ebethharper at mac.com

Honestly...I could use a few good words...I’m really trying hard to maintain my sense of humor here and not allow myself to be bovvered.

Peace to you all this day as I search for some of my own.

Words To Live By

Wed, 28 Jan 2009 16:12:22 -0500

There’s big doings happening around here this weekend and the words above are quickly becoming a bit of a mantra for me. I popped by Kyran’s place over at Notes to Self earlier today and her post reminded me that I possessed this image in my photo library too. Given how busy we’ve been here for the last few days, running and going and doing, we’re actually in pretty good shape as we complete our preparations for a big weekend.

John’s family begins to arrive Friday and by Monday we’ll be all gathered together. I’ve not had a chance to meet his younger daughter. She’ll be here with her husband and their 4 year old daughter who is John’s only grandchild. I’m really looking forward to meeting them and although I’m a teensy bit nervous, I think we’ll do just fine.

Given the events of the next few days, I may not have a chance to post much, but I’m still here...Keeping Calm and Carrying On.
Wish me luck!

Dip Me In The Water

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 18:49:53 -0500

For most of my life, in spite of living in different parts of California, all of which were very close to the ocean, and right on Lake Ontario for a few years, I’ve never been one who felt drawn to the water or even the water life. As strange as it may sound to all of you water babies and beach lovers, I’ve never been particularly interested in walking on the beach or even water sports. I tried certain things such scuba diving, windsurfing, and waterskiing over the years and enjoyed them, but not in any lasting change your life kind of way.

Despite this, almost all of the psychic readings I’ve had over the last 25 years have had one thing in common. Most of the readers have said that they saw me living near a large body of water. Not one to generally speak during a reading because I don’t like to deny or confirm anything, this is the one point I have consistently spoken up and said, “ Nope, I don’t like the beach...that’s not me.” After that I might ask, “ Could it be a mountain lake or a river?” To which they’ve always said, “ No, I see you living near the ocean.” It’s at about that point I would usually become a bit more dubious about the rest of what they had to say. I’ve never been one to make major decisions based on what has been said in these little forays into the unknown, but I am a curious soul and have enjoyed the occasional spot on accuracy that has happened from time to time. The reference to ocean living however has always left me feeling a bit more skeptical than normal.

Even though I lived near water as a child and for several years in my early 20’s, I have for some reason associated living near the ocean with the heat and flat beaches of Florida. Perhaps it is the proximity of Georgia where I’ve spent at least 35 of my 48 years to the often sought after sunny paradise that people associate with Florida. While many parts of what is referred to as “The Sunshine State” are lovely, I’ve always preferred a bit more variation in the topography of any place I’ve called home. As someone who enjoys getting a good run in on a regular basis, I would rather run on hills than a long flat road and I don’t do as well in heat as I do a cooler climate. So you can see why when hearing that my future involved a life near water, I might have thought, “Right...not happening...not in this lifetime!”

For any of you out there who have been adamant about something you’ve sworn in the past would never ever happen, this post is really for you. If you’ve been following Gifts of the Journey for long, you probably are aware that I now live on an island surrounded by what...say it with me now...OCEAN! Yes, that’s right. Although the coast is ten miles from my new home here, I can stand on the moor and see the water on a clear day and the mix of the two, a wild and changing coastline along with the moody colors and foliage of the moor makes for a place I’d easily call my heaven on earth. The picture above is one I took a few days ago. It’s a glimpse of this new beach loving convert’s permanent field of vision and a confirmation that staying open to possibility can be the best gift we give ourselves.

What gifts are you giving yourself in this new year....

Welcome Home Mr. President

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 12:21:55 -0500

It’s long been known that former President Lincoln's ghost has said to have been spotted from time to time in the White House. Whether you believe it or not, stories told by people such as Winston Churchill, Harry Truman, and Lyndon B. Johnson seem to carry some weight in the speculative possibility that there may indeed have been an extra President in the White House for the last 144 years.

It’s easy for me to imagine the lanky figure of Abraham Lincoln walking the halls and peering out of the windows of the Oval Office, watching as the landscape of our nation’s capital changed and grew. I wonder would he have approved of the Lincoln Memorial or would he have thought it too grand. Was he there in the shadows as Martin Luther King, Jr. stood on the steps in front of the monument built to honor him, the man who set the changes to come in motion by signing the Emancipation Proclamation. Did he hear Dr. King as he said those famous words, “I have a Dream.” How many political changes might he have witnessed as our country fought wars and economic depression and even each other again and again. I can almost see him in the Oval Office sprawled in a chair off to the side, eavesdropping on affairs of state, decade after decade, waiting quietly for the day he knew would come.

Today, is that day. Today, 144 years after Abraham Lincoln’s death, America will swear in the 44th President of the United States. Many people have waited for this day, worked for this day, and even died believing this day would come. Today, a new door will be opened when President Obama walks into the White House and through the door to the Oval Office. I’d like to imagine Lincoln’s spirit on the other side, his ghostly hand grasping the door knob to assist in opening it wide for the newest soul brave enough to step into the weighty task of guiding a nation and running the country.

I can see him now, his shadowy image standing just inside the Oval Office. Stepping to one side, he picks up his stovepipe hat and giving a slight bow, he finally speaks. I’ve been waiting such a long time for you to arrive. “Welcome home Mr. President.” Then with a bit of a smile, he turns and steps out of the office he’s guarded for so long and walking down the hallway for the last time, he slowly begins to fade away as he raises his hat in a backwards salute and whispers softly to himself...”Welcome home.”

Picking Up Steps

Sat, 17 Jan 2009 19:24:11 -0500

When I was working as an actor...which really means when I was auditioning for work because that’s what most actors do the bulk of the time, I used to get sent out on auditions for a variety of unusual roles. In addition to my acting life, I was holding down a day job in pharmaceutical sales while still adjusting to life after divorce and providing the weekly care for my young daughter.
Acting had been a dream deferred for me as I had graduated from a southern university while six months pregnant. By the time my daughter was approaching her second birthday, I did what many women do as I followed my then husband far from friends and family for a job change that led us out west to Texas. It was one more in a series of moves that carried me the wrong direction entirely from the acting life I had long imagined might exist for me in New York.

As I’ve gotten older, I can see that most things we wish for and work towards have a way of happening in their own time. I wish I could have understood that concept in my 20’s and 30’s. I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to do and have it all at the same time. I might have enjoyed the moments as they occurred instead of rushing on to complete the next task or accomplish the next goal and I certainly would have let go of the need to do everything perfectly or not at all.

My acting life took shape in ways I hadn’t considered when I finally began to study again. That is the other thing most actors must do in order to work. You must study. Much like keeping your skills updated for any job, an actor needs to take classes regularly to keep sharp for the next audition because each audition might be the audition that becomes “the one.” I was in an “Acting for Camera” class in Atlanta when an agent saw me and asked me to give her a call. She’d come by that day to see what kind of new talent might be out there and saw me in a scene from a Woody Allen play. I did the best of all possible things that day when I made a seasoned agent and a stern New Yorker.... laugh. Joan, a former Rockette as I later discovered, was a woman who had a good reputation for fairness, but was considered a bit aloof and difficult to connect with by those who had worked with her. When I auditioned for her the first time, I hadn’t been looking for an agent. I didn’t think I was ready. I had only gone back to acting a few months before and was still struggling with my insecurities and the ten extra pounds that I thought I needed to lose before anyone might take me seriously.

Joan’s interest in me moved my plan ahead far faster than I had envisioned and suddenly on an already busy afternoon, I found myself in a sunny studio creating a character out of a few words on a slip of paper. For a few wonderful and frightening moments I was no longer, Elizabeth Harper, I was instead a waitress from Poland struggling to tell her story in a language still unfamiliar and strange. Joan had given me a monologue to memorize and in order to make it more interesting, I’d created a character who in my imagination, had only been in America for a few months. Using a Polish accent fleshed her out a bit more and gave me a way to go deeper into character so as not to be unnerved by the carefully made up face watching me in silence. Saying little when I was done, she went on in her efficient way, noting other skills I possessed that might help in her decision regarding taking me on as a client.

She asked me to sing a bit....I was not as prepared for this as I should have been and after hearing me she remarked that I had a nice little voice. This was the equivalent of saying, “ It’s the chorus for you girl!” She was dead on in this, the only lead roles I’d had with singing parts had been as part of a Children’s Theatre Company where when I sang alone, it was as an over the top sort of character designed to appeal to a childish audience.

Then came the question I should have anticipated knowing this Atlanta based agent had been a member of the famous Radio City Music Hall Rockettes, I hesitated as she asked me the question I knew there would be no way to bluff through and I thought hard about my response when she asked, “Can you dance?” I was totally unprepared for this one and I paused trying to decide how much honesty was required here. In the end, I said that while I’d had roles which required a bit of dance choreography, I certainly couldn’t say I was a dancer. Thinking she might ask me to show her a few moves, I waited. I’m sure I probably looked as if I would have rather wrestled a bear than demonstrate just how self conscious I was in this area. She thought for minute and then quite graciously said, “Just say you can pick up steps if you’re ever asked in an audition.” “Picking up steps,” translated in the immediate in my mind to, “I’ve got an agent!”

After that day, Joan signed me as a client and I went on to work mostly in the Atlanta area doing day player work that consisted of a mix of industrial training films, some bits in commercials, a little print work, night soaps and movies where if you blinked you’d miss me. It was never anything huge although you might recognize me in the background of a Kevin Kline movie, or some bad B movies made for television. Even though I seemed to work a good bit for an Atlanta actor, I maintain it was more about a particular look a casting agent required rather than any great skill on my part. I found myself more and more often in chatty waitress roles pouring endless cups of coffee or acting in industrials like the time i was a UPS driver demonstrating new equipment. My military background came in handy more than a time or two when I snagged the role a police woman in a few different things, but I grew tired of it all after about five years.

I’d balanced it with job in sales that was becoming increasingly demanding of my time and as I moved into working in immunology and HIV, I made a decision to let it go. It was easy really, one day I was on the set of Savannah, an Aaron Spelling evening soap when I had an a-ha moment of sorts. Looking around at the other actors some of whom I’d seen for years in various things. I realized that whatever I was looking for would not be found here. I admitted to myself that what I’d wanted to do all along had more with the words than the acting itself. It wasn’t as if this moment of revelation changed my life, I finished up the day and went back to my day job “selling drugs” as my daughter had told her friends when asked about what kind of work her mother did to earn a living. She told me later that she’d said, “ My mom’s an actress and she sells drugs.” I’m still not sure if the children who heard this mentioned it at home, but in looking back that could explain some of the looks I got later at the PTA meetings.

Joan’s admonition to say that I could pick up steps came back to me the other day when I joined a roomful of women of various ages and backgrounds for a morning aerobics class at the village hall. It had been at least 27 years since my last attempt at this form of exercise and it didn’t take long for me to remember that I had given it up then because I felt arrhythmic and clumsy. Let me say now, some things do not change. I was still all over the place in my attempt to keep up. Even though I was standing at the back of the room and while I wasn’t exactly dangerous I think a detected the women on my left and right swinging a bit wider in an attempt to give my flailing arms enough room and to avoid getting smacked. I really struggled as the instructor took us though a series of moves that maybe I could have done if I’d been channeling my inner Isadora Duncan, but I was on my own that day. No Isadora or Travolta around to help me with my inability to get the foxtrot/Madonna/cha-cha mix down. Thank goodness there were no mirrors on the wall or I would have been completely done in. As it was, I was so tickled by my own missteps that I giggled myself into a laugh until you cry moment.

You might wonder why I would attempt such an experience 27 years after tossing out my
Olivia Newton-John exercise video....well, I’ve been making some new friends here and trying new things. In addition to learning why it’s never appropriate to refer to my backside as my fanny as in “ My fanny would look so much better in these pants if I could lose five pounds,” I’ve learned a few other things as well. One being, that even though many things in my life have changed since 1982, some things clearly haven’t and while I still can’t really “pick up steps” very easily as Joan would say, I can laugh about the experience and maybe even go back for more. It’s taken me a long time, but I’m finally learning that perfection is never a requirement for having a good time and sometimes just having a laugh along with a few shared silly looking dance steps can be just what’s needed to make you feel a bit more at home when home is some place new.

What kind of steps are you picking up these days....

(The picture above is my headshot from around 1995 and the name on it was my stage name.)

Sticks & Stones

Wed, 14 Jan 2009 06:15:44 -0500

My blogging friend Hay wrote an amazing post a few days ago that touched every tender place I have as a mother. I borrowed a bit of her title for today’s post, but you really must go to her site and read, I’ll Take Sticks And Stones Any Day in order see why I was so affected.

Go now...read it please, then come back to me.

On Shutter Sisters today, the question posed asked, “What inspires you today?” I immediately thought of Hay and others like her in my blogging world. Gifts of inspiration come from many places for me. Inside, outside, online and off, but today I want to talk about how I was inspired by Hay and her words. The title of her post alone was thought provoking even before my eyes moved down to the first sentence. I won’t break the post down for you, but it made me think.
A few days later and I’m still thinking...

Some of you may remember from childhood, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.” There are few different versions of this, but they’re all essentially the same. This retort flung in the direction of another would be heard after some ugly name calling intended to wound the person on the receiving end.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve certainly had my share of being called things I rather not repeat. When you’re always the new kid in a different school, you’re sure to be singled out for a bit of verbal abuse. As difficult as that can be for a child, it becomes a pain of a different kind when the harsh words come from those we love. For those of us who are parents, this happens more often than we’d like to admit.

This morning I’ve been stuck...still thinking about the sticks and stones saying, but now I’m beginning to look at it a little differently. Think about how often in history different cultures have used sticks and stones as building materials for creating a shelter. Think about how one might use sticks and stones as a foundation for a new structure. Now, what if instead of absorbing those things that our children sometimes say that are so wounding, we used them instead to create a foundation for something better. Maybe a way of seeing it differently. So that “ You never did this for me...” might turn into a set of steps or “ Why can’t you be like other mothers ” might become a window looking towards a different view. What if every hurtful remark might become through examination and evaluation, and acceptance or rejection, a building block to greater awareness and connection. So that stick by stick and stone by stone we might build a new and better house of love and understanding.

Sticks and stones, thank you Hay.

Freedom

Tue, 13 Jan 2009 03:59:54 -0500

My images told my stories long before it felt safe to use words. The combination of both has freed me.
For most of the years of my life, I’ve held a camera in one hand. I’ve seen the world framed through a lens even when there was no camera present with only my eyes to record the moment. Photography has long been my safety net, a protective outlet for my creative voice, the one that’s chattered on incessantly in my head even though I’ve tried for years to silence it in multiple ways.
Like a young mother encouraging her child to try new foods when they only want the same thing over and over, I’ve picked at different jobs and hobbies, adding and discarding in an attempt to find the one thing that I could focus on...the one thing that would allow me to pretend that I wasn’t drawn to storytelling every moment of every day.
Let me say now, when you are pulled so consistently towards what you know in your soul is right for you and you turn away, everything else is like a bland meal by comparison. If you judge your work next to others or allow doubt to fill you up with fear then you close the door on the best gift you have to share with the world.
Early last year, when I was still in America, my good friend Patrice and I were watching the first auditions of American Idol where the judges say those four words that all the hopeful singers want most to hear, “ You’re going to Hollywood!” Those who managed to impress the judges with their potential came through the exit door laughing and shouting with excitement and joy, but the ones who didn’t make it, came through in various states of disbelief and sorrow. Some showed their pain with anger, while others cried as if the door to their dream had been slammed shut forever. Many of them said over and over, I just want to sing...I’ll die if I don’t...it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Patrice said something that resonated with me then and stays with me now. Each time she heard someone wail how they’d die if they didn’t get a chance to sing, she’d say in the direction of the television, “So sing if you want to, sing in the shower, sing at church, sing for old folks in nursing homes, if singing is what you want, then find a way to do it!”
So it left me thinking, if writing is want I want, what’s stopping me? Of course there are a million ways to answer that question. Many of you could fill it in for me. Some of the answers could and would be quite legitimate for many of us, like family needs or a demanding job, or even a messy house, but when you get really honest, it’s more simple than that.
I can say it in one word...FEAR !
What if what I write is no good... what if no one likes it...what if...what if...what if? Listening to Patrice giving advice to those who couldn’t hear her, I listened, and I heard. Even though she wasn’t speaking to me, I heard her words and made them mine. I told myself, “If writing is want you want to do, Elizabeth, then write, write for yourself or others it doesn’t matter...just write.”
So that’s what I’ve done.
I’ve stopped standing outside the window peering in on the writing lives of others. I may still be a small voice you hear once in a while from the back of the room, but I’m growing everyday and one day soon I may get up and amble over the the edge of the circle and take a seat.
For now, I am content to write for myself and for any who would read what matters to me.

What is the one thing you long to do....

Effie’s Back

Mon, 12 Jan 2009 07:56:19 -0500

Effie’s finally back from her coffee break. My apologies for the extended emptiness of the coffee pot. If you’re feeling thirsty and ready for a refill, click on the cup above to head over to Waxy’s other another cup and maybe even a piece of pie.

What It Looks Like From Here

Wed, 7 Jan 2009 05:06:02 -0500

Yesterday, as is our way here on many days, John and I took a walk. Whenever he says to me, “I was thinking about a walk....would you like to....”, you can be assured it will be an adventure of some kind. The word walk here covers a wide range of possibilities from a short thirty minute stroll through the village and around some of the outlying lanes to a four hour jaunt across the moor. On a really fine day, we may head to the coast which is about ten miles from home for a coast path walk. These can be a series of strenuous up and down hills and I have often muttered when huffing and puffing that it’s hardly what I would call a “walk !” I need to clarify that a walk here is closer to what most Americans would refer to as a hike and sometimes I think it would be useful to have my harness, climbing shoes and John on belay when we’re climbing cliff paths that seem to go straight up.

Whinging aside, I really love the coast path walks we do. The north coast reminds me of the rocky coastline that I associate with northern California. Aside from the benefits of a good physical workout, the absolute beauty of a coastal walk near the water’s edge can ease away almost any worry you’ve been carrying for too long. If you bring a picnic lunch, you’ve got an all day affair that can end quite pleasantly with a pint in a local pub.

I want to take you on a bit of a walk with me from time to time so I’m including a mix of photographs from our most recent day out. The one above was taken yesterday as we were finishing a three hour walk across Bodmin Moor. The rest were taken at different points during the same walk. I hope these will give you a better idea of what it looks like from here.

What You Get When You Don’t Read The Directions

Mon, 5 Jan 2009 15:48:19 -0500

One year ago today, John received a message from me that I was unaware I’d even sent. After becoming somewhat disenchanted with American men, late one night I used Google to find an online dating site in the United Kingdom. I’d long had a passion for the western highlands of Scotland so it was a natural curiosity that prompted a look towards the island of my ancestors. After reviewing the five profiles allowed without a membership, I signed for up three days with Guardian Soulmates and quickly put together a profile so I could access the dating site without restrictions. It didn’t take long to read through the profiles of the men that were sent for review based on qualities I’d identified as important. Once done with those, I opened up some of the restrictions to see who else might look interesting and had about 100 profiles to browse through right away. It was in this group that John showed up.

His picture was very appealing and his profile, while well written, had one statement that made him stand out for me more than any other. What he said was, “I would like to meet someone whose attitude to life is positive, who shares my values or at least understands them. Above all someone for whom the concept of 'one's own space' is not alien !” It was the “one’s own space” that drew my attention and it so resonated with me that I clicked on save to favorites so I could come back and take a second look at him later after I’d gone through the rest of the lot.

If I’d read the directions when I created my profile, I would have known that by clicking on save to favorites, it would him a message saying he had a fan. Now, imagine my face a bit later when I received a message back from John expressing an interest in communicating through email after he’d gotten my “fan” mail. Even though I found him very attractive in many ways, I don’t think I would have ever sent him a direct message. It’s not really my way and as I said, I was just looking.

While my tendency has long been to skip directions when perhaps I should read them, in this instance, not reading the directions that day was the best thing I ever did. The only exception being when I clicked send and emailed him the response that gave us a chance to get to know each other.

If you remember what I said in the first sentence, “One year ago today...” That’s right, today is special because it’s the anniversary of the day we met ...online anyway. There are good and bad stories of people who’ve met online and ours is just one of many. In our case however, we are proof that there are no accidents and when you’re ready, you might meet someone just right for you.

Perhaps a soul mate even....if you stay open to possibility...and oh yeah, skip the directions once in a while.

John’s profile picture as it was on Soulmates.

Ringing In The New Year

Sun, 4 Jan 2009 05:04:00 -0500

When I first heard about the annual New Year’s Eve party that takes place at the only pub in our village, I was really excited. John mentioned it early on as in having been there in the past and how much of the village usually turns out to celebrate the new year. He told me these events were always fancy dress and my mind quite naturally started sorting through my closet inventory for just the right little black dress to wear. As it turns out, fancy dress has another meaning in England and while an American woman might assume she’d need a special party frock, she wouldn’t imagine that fancy dress was another name for costume party.

As someone with a degree in theatre, this was an unexpected surprise and one I met with great enthusiasm. You can have a look above at my choice for this years theme which was “ Uniforms.” For those of you that know I served in the US Army, I need to let you know that I did not fly or jump out of airplanes as part of my job. I did love being an American flyer (complete with parachute) for this event and practically everyone in the pub had a nice compliment for me. It really was a nice welcome back to this sweet little village I’ve come to love.

I am aware that I’m holding not one, but two glasses in the picture above...one is only water. I’m practically a tea-totaler by comparison with almost anyone I’ve met while here. In fact, I’ve had so little alcohol in the pub in the past that even Roger, the bartender, commented on how many Jagermeisters I had that night. (Let it be noted, I was completely sober for the walk back home)

The bells of the parish church rang in the new year at midnight. They began a bit before midnight with a mix of ringing bells as they do on Sunday mornings and for weddings and other occasions and then stopped for a couple of minutes as midnight approached. Many of us stepped out into the chilly night air to listen as they rang the new year into 2009 from the parish church which sits across the village green opposite the pub. After Happy New Year kisses and hugs all around we when back into the pub for mass singing of "Auld Lang Syne" which was really quite different from my celebrations in America. People were already singing as we came in, holding the hands of the person on either side of them with their own hands crossed in front of their bodies. It was like stepping into an old movie scene for me. With a rousing round of happy voices packed into a very traditional looking English pub, it might well have been 1944. The best part of it though was how when we came back inside, the circle of hands opened making it possible for us to join hands with the others and sing along.

It was very welcoming and a lovely start to 2009.

What did you do on New Years Eve ...do you have any traditions you’d like to share?

Here are a few more pictures from our evening.

John as a sea captain

Me with friends, Ray and MIJ

Len & Mary (two of the bell ringers)

Sorry there are not more pictures of better quality...I didn’t take my camera so as not to spend the whole evening looking through the lens. Instead of recording the event, I just wanted to be a part of it all for the night. (Plus as you can see, my hands were full...cheers!)

With Loving Eyes

Sat, 3 Jan 2009 05:09:40 -0500

Like many people, I went a little overboard with food during the holidays. I was back in America for about seven weeks so I managed to be there for the two most food focused holiday periods we have back home. I actually arrived a few weeks before Thanksgiving and due to the kindness of family and friends, I had the great pleasure of being treated to many of my favorite foods in restaurants around Atlanta and some special treats prepared by my step-mom during the days I spent with her. The food fest extended to Alaska where during my week long stay there seemed to be an opportunity every day to say, “ Well...I’ll have just a little taste.”

Now having arrived back in Cornwall, I find that all the I weight I brought back wasn’t contained in the overstuffed bags I hauled through the airport. It seems there is also a bit more of me than there used to be. So it wasn’t surprising to me yesterday that after seeing my increased size reflected back in stone and kilograms, I went quickly from the bathroom scale into the living room in a great burst of woeful exclamation. After listening to me moan at length and a bit loudly about my bigger bottom, John looked at me and said very calmly and with absolute sincerity, “You’re doing fine.”

Of course every woman I know has heard this in the past. Usually it’s from someone who cares for them and they’ve probably responded as I have with something between a snort of dismissal or an argument designed for snatching off the rose colored glasses that the person responding must surely be wearing. I mean, “ Can’t you see it...for God’s sake...open your eyes man!” Some of you may have even said those very words and while I wasn’t quite that extreme yesterday, I came close to having one of those moments.

I heard my words coming out of my mouth before I could stop them as I said, “ Yes, but you see me through loving eyes!” As I said it, I realized what I was saying to him. It was an ah-ha moment for me and a great way to start 2009. I hadn’t really made any resolutions for this year. I’d loosely outlined some creative goals, but hadn’t considered any resolutions when this “little” awareness forced it’s way out of my subconscious and into my everyday life.

Those words stayed with me yesterday and I can still hear them, “ You see me through loving eyes!” I’ve been thinking that perhaps along with a reaching for a diminishing waist line this year, I’ll pay more attention to seeing myself less critically.

I mean...so what if we’re a bit bigger or smaller, our hearts are still the same size and isn’t that really the best part of us all. The next time I’m deciding what I think is wrong with me, I’m going to remind myself how wonderful it is to be seen through loving eyes...and then take a second look at the rest of me...the heart of me and the best part of me.

The Light Of A New Year

Thu, 1 Jan 2009 13:14:13 -0500

Looking through my pictures from 2008, I came across this one that John took of me on a walk near where we live in a tiny village close to Bodmin Moor. On sunny days, there are great bursts of light that break through the canopy of leaves covering the path. When walking through so much green there’s a kind of magical feeling when you step into a huge patch of sunshine. I almost always stop and stand for an extra moment feeling the warmth that comes and goes so often in Cornwall.

This picture reflects the peaceful glow I felt through most of 2008. If asked to list five words that described how I felt in 2008, I would have trouble limiting my list to five and not surprisingly many are already in the paragraph above. There is no significance to the order below.

magical
peaceful
light
love
warmth

2009 is filled with big plans as John and I begin to make more permanent changes to our relationship. New words come to mind with only few listed below.

home
happiness
connection
change
willingness

I look forward to sharing more of my journey and yours in this new year. I’ve felt a tremendous amount of support from those who stop by giftsofthejourney on a regular basis especially when you leave a comment that lets me know that my words have impacted your day in some way. Know that even though I don’t always respond to a comment, they mean a great deal to me and I always, always, appreciate your interest and support.

When I began this blog last summer, I imagined it a way for family and friends to stay connected to what was happening to me while in England. The gifts of friendship I’ve received outside of my intended audience have been a sweet surprise. For that, I want to say thank you and extend my warmest wishes that each of you have 2009 filled with opportunities you’ve not yet imagined as well as those you’ve long held in your dreams.

Now...if you’d like to leave behind five words of your own that you hope will describe your 2009 as you envision it, please take a minute and share them below.

Happy New Year !

Goodbye

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 17:11:42 -0500

If I leave here tomorrow
would you still remember me?
For I must be traveling on, now,
cause there’s too many places I’ve got to see.
-Allen Collins - Ronnie Van Zant

I’ve had traveling feet for as long as I can remember. As a child, we moved so often that people assumed we were a military family and while many girls born in my generation learned to cook or sew from their mothers, my memories have more to do with how to navigate through a big move rather than how to cook a meal or sew on a button.

I’m still not sure why my mother seemed intent on changing the locations of our lives so frequently, but I believe that my ability to make friends wherever I go is partly a result of having to learned to say hello and goodbye with such regularity.

Books were my substitute for the sense of stability that comes with longtime connections in a life where building lasting friendships was not an option. I was an early reader as a child, reaching for adventure books almost as soon as I mastered the alphabet. While I devoured books about other children who faced adversity during adventurous moves, I was particularly drawn to a series of books about traveling children written by Lois Lenski with my favorite being, Judy’s Journey.

I’ve carried my longing for a life of change and adventure right into adulthood so it’s really no surprise that I would fall in love with a man in another country and “move house” as they say here in order to be with him. For me home really is where the heart is and now after having spent the last 18 years based in Atlanta Georgia, I’m shifting more permanently towards making a home in Cornwall with John. Even though the majority of my life will now be based in England, a huge piece of my heart is and always will be attached to my family and friends who remain the country of my birth.

Two days ago, I kissed family and friends goodbye once again. This marks the fourth time this year that I’ve packed my bags and made my way to England, but it feels very different this time. It was more difficult knowing that from this point on I will no longer be visiting John, but nesting here with him creating a life that I’ve imagined might be possible to share with another who feels as I do about so many of the things that define who we are.

So I’ve kicked the shoes off my traveling feet for a while and while I’m busy exploring my new life and location with John, know that all of you who I hold close in my heart remain tightly wedged there in a special place that exists only for you.

Saying goodbye is never easy and sometimes it feels worse than others, but the quote below conveys my thoughts far better than I can and I’ll leave you with it for now.

Don't be dismayed at good-byes.

A farewell is necessary before you can meet again.

And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.

- Richard Bach

Transitions

Mon, 29 Dec 2008 00:20:56 -0500

My daughter rather quietly completed her college degree a few weeks ago. Graduating from Virginia Tech, she finished in just three and half years taking her last test on a cold Tuesday morning earlier this month. Two days later, she was packed and on the road arriving home with little fanfare to greet her. I would have loved to see her in a cap and gown walking with the other graduates, but she was a bit more practical about the whole thing. I asked her if she’d thought about having a party to celebrate, but she wasn’t interested in a big gathering, preferring instead to spend time with smaller groups of family and friends since she’d finished school just as the holidays were taking hold of everyone’s schedule.

Anticipating her shift from student life to her first career job, I thought a good bit about an appropriate way to mark this transition. I’ve pulled together a couple of things that she’ll be opening this morning over a graduation breakfast at her grandmother’s house.

We shopped the other day for her first real business clothes avoiding suits for a mix of professional looking separates. The after Christmas sales helped buffer her shock at the cost of a wardrobe that consists of more than the jeans and hoody’s that have made up her college attire for the last few years. Part of her job responsibilities involve doing sales presentations and with her new wardrobe, she’ll look the part as she delivers her message. Having spent most of my career in sales, I also understand the importance of a good bag/briefcase. I like one open enough to reach into without having to riffle through. A former boss of mine taught me years ago how to reach in for an item without breaking eye contact...it was one of the best things I learned about how to stay focused in a meeting. With that in mind, I bought her a briefcase with a bit of flair and ease in opening to complete her look.

I also picked up a pair of VT orange Crocs to remind her that life is about more than work and having comfy shoes on your feet when you’re ready to play makes it even better.

When she’s ready to take her first vacation, she has the promise of a plane ticket to visit Cornwall so that John and I will have a chance to show her some of the places that we think make the southwest of England so special.

Lastly, the silver bracelet in the picture above is the gift I hope she’ll treasure. It’s not fancy, but the words have a special meaning. I’ve included the quote from the bracelet just below it. The phrase is one of the most famous from Shakespeare’s, The Tempest, “We are such stuff/ As dreams are made on” this was said by the magician Prospero after he makes a group of spirits vanish in order to remind us that life is brief. My daughter has a special connection to The Tempest in that she shares the name of Prospero’s daughter, Miranda.

I was finishing a theatre degree when I graduated a 22 years ago with Miranda tucked safely in utero and although it’s not first reason I chose it, the connection to a Shakespearean favorite and the stage reinforced my decision. At the time of my own graduation, I was big enough to pooch out a bit under my gown as I walked in with the other graduates and I remembered thinking at the time that the child I was carrying was walking for her first degree. Although she’s heard this story over the years, I wonder if she remembered it when she decided to skip her own graduation exercises.

As my daughter moves forward on this newest part of her journey, I hope she’ll consider the words on the card I found while looking for something to hold my tender message of pride in her accomplishment. The seven points outlined by Marion Winik on the card above are just about perfect. Her words convey my thoughts even better than I can as I consider what more can I possibly say after all I’ve said over the last 21 years. This transition for me is just one more in a series of my learning how to let go. Guidance from me is not as necessary now and advice is better when asked for rather than offered. These are still lessons for me to learn as my daughter grows into a future that she’ll create on her own. Transitions are tough to navigate sometimes, but she seems to be moving on with little anxiety...I hope she’ll refer back to # 4 on the card if I forget that bit about too much unsolicited advice.

In these tough economic times, she is fortunate to have a job that she’ll begin in early January.

I’m really proud of her. I always have been.

Congratulations Miranda....well done!

Love Is The Gift

Thu, 25 Dec 2008 03:08:54 -0500

My daughter helped me out yesterday when I asked her to hold my heart in her hands for a photograph. While setting up the shot, I kept having to stop to relax her hands because as much as she tried to keep them open, her tendency was to hold on too tightly to the heart shaped Christmas ornament. After stopping several times to open her hands and expose more of the heart, I thought about how much this experience mirrors real life. I considered how often we hold on too tightly to our own hearts thinking it the way to keep them safe.

In this season and day of gift giving, I am reminded that the greatest gift we have to give, is love. My good friend Carla quoted someone we both know the other day when I was struggling with a problem that was causing me a tremendous amount of heartache. She said in times past when she was at ends with how to deal with an emotional issue, her friend Angelle would tell to her ask herself, “What would love do?” These were the very words I needed to hear that day and I am grateful she took the time to share them with me. It’s so easy to let fear manifest as anger and close ourselves off to possibilities for love and healing when our hearts feel exposed and threatened.

My Christmas wish for myself and for each of you is that in this coming new year when you feel like closing your heart and hiding your love...ask yourself, “What would love do?”