Looking Ahead

In a city so full of history it is easy to have a backward view much of the time. And yes, I do that. I remain fascinated by the architecture, my personal musings about what life must have been at different periods, curiosity about how and when buildings and their use changed, thoughts about the ease with which I/we dismiss the difficult life choices of others, etc., etc., etc. It keeps me continually occupied – and reading.

Now, however, a forward view just has to move front and center. You see, I’ve got to do something to get out of the gloom and gray! We still have snow, admittedly not full storms as we’ve had, in the forecast and the next four days have snowdrops falling out of huge clouds. And most of the time when there isn’t snow, there also isn’t any sun to relieve the monotony. Oh drat!

Do I love Prague any less? You may be certain I do not! She is like a fascinating person who reveals her many moods and depth of wisdom only a little at a time. And yes, I want to continue to learn about her past and participate in her future, to continue to explore the hidden places I often overlook when moving straight forward through a day.

I’m beginning my own “tour” plan, thanks to one of the StJ staff members I’ve gotten to know and admire. She was telling me about her Tour ‘d Prague, weekly trips made randomly to different neighborhoods with her trusty guide book (Czech, darn it) telling all about the various houses and neighborhoods. So I’ve adopted her idea, and as soon as the weather takes a turn for the better, a friend and I are going to set up our own routine. Yesterday I went on a shopping trip (very unusual for me) to a large bookstore right on Václavské Náměstí, the historic square (really a long boulevard) in the center of town. My first purchase (thanks to a lovely C’mas gift from Michael) was a beautiful, full color book about the house markings -- frescoes, statues, wooden signs, etc. -- of historic Prague. There are only a few words on each page, plus an outline map of the location, and it is grouped by neighborhoods. It’ll keep us going till we find other books. Fortunately it is not "coffee table" size even though it is "coffee table" beauty.

And speaking of books, my latest “super read” is For the Love of Prague by Gene Deitch, an American living here nonstop since 1959 – can you believe it -- and very happily married to a Czech. It's really great, if you’re interested in a down-to-earth, first-person account of life from then till now. Mine was the fifth edition, so he's been constantly updating. He is, by the way, an Oscar winning animator who’s worked with Maurice Sendak et al. Very readable and very informative.

So yes, there’s a lot to look forward to. I still have a great teaching schedule, though it has been slower lately (and that’s a good thing) because of cancellations for vacations, heavy work schedules and travel, etc. But I continue to have really super students and look forward to each day.

And I’ve now learned the reason for my multiple xrays, CT scan, bronchoscopy, and doctor’s visits. It turns out I (my body, my lungs, my system, some part of me) had an allergic reaction in my lungs to the pneumonia bacteria. That’s a new one for my medical storehouse! It’s what my “superdoc” saw on all the pictures that he couldn’t identify – and wouldn’t quit until he could! It’s also the reason it’s taking so much longer for me to bounce back (besides age, of course). I continue to be so grateful for the good medical care here. And I continue to get my energy back slowly, noticing little differences each day. The same ol’ “me” – one more thing to look forward to.

Once again I feel so blessed to be living this new chapter of my life. Who would have thought this would be what I could look forward to. Not I. And a backward glance tells me I need to keep watching out for and paying attention to opportunities, big and small. I can see so many wonderful events that prepared me to this time which were totally unappreciated at the time.

I hope your forward look is in place, getting ready for spring, longer days, more sunshine, and new opportunities!

Happy Anniversary to Me

Two years and counting! And what a wonderful time it has been. It feels as though I am in a “perfect middle”, a sort of wonderland between what has been and what will be. It’s difficult to remember all the feelings – excitement, exhaustion, sadness, anticipation, curiosity, (and that’s only the beginning of the list) – of that long ago plane ride. It’s easy to remember the first few days – the people who helped things move forward, the sense of belonging, and most of all, the rightness of moving into a new chapter. It would have been impossible to imagine all the wonders of these past two years.

Some of my musings are about places which have become my favorites: Brevnov Monastery, the Dvorak Museum, Uherske Hradiste (the lovely Moravian town with its annual festival and dear friends), several cozy restaurants, the Zoo, the peace of centuries old sanctuaries, the tram rides past decades and centuries of buildings both graceful and graceless. More often I think of friends, colleagues, and students, the “new” people whose lives have become so important in mine and the seamless way they blend in with those who continue to remain ever present in my thoughts if not my current geography.

It’s the to-do-to-go list which seems to claim a lot of my attention, however. Perhaps it’s the snow and cold, perhaps it’s just a general January routine, or most probably it’s the realization that this isn’t a suspension of some sort – time really is moving along. I’m keeping a real list now, not a mental one, of sunny-day expeditions and rainy-day retreats, places to visit when I have one day free vs. places to go when I have an extra day off. What is difficult is that they all seem to be equally important, none seems optional. Oh my, just have to get at it!

So here I am at the two-year mark, living in the past, the present, and the future all at the same time, and loving every minute of it, whether it's new and exciting or ordinary and frustrating. They are all mine, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be or nothing else I'd rather be doing.

The best thing now, however, is my return to health. It is both amazing and wonderful to see little bits of improvement each day. I see my “super specialist” again Friday for new x-rays. Probably the best description of my feeling now is “cautious optimism”. I know I’m getting better; I just don’t know what my lungs look like.

I begin teaching part time Monday. Am I ready? Probably not as ready as I think I am. And I know I will have to watch the energy level carefully. I’ve been warned about overdoing, and I’m paying attention. A trip to StJ yesterday taught me how quickly I can tire. Again I am so blessed. And so very grateful.

And yes, I want to keep counting these anniversaries, creating new memories, enjoying new friends, and sharing it all with you. It is a new experience to consider it all from this healing cocoon. Now I must get on with doing it! A new year with all its possibilities, just waiting to be lived. . . .

Have a wonderful February – spring is coming!

Sundries

So many little things knit themselves together to make a good day, a satisfying week, or a weekend in which everything seems to go just right. After all these years, I'm beginning to learn that my most important job (in every situation) is to be ready. Then just "go with the flow". And these times are almost always unexpected. That's how things have been lately.

► What a super Mikulas ((pronounced mick'-oo-lahsh) party last weekend. First, I feel so honored to be included in events such as this with great people, marvelous multi-ethnic food, and a general good time. The hostess was the neat young woman who was the former Assistant Director of Studies at StJ and has now returned to teaching. We are able to spend a few moments together each week in the reception area where we have classes at the same time at one of the StJ clients. I always look forward to those times together. Yes, the flat was small and packed wall to wall with people. But what fun! Getting there, being there, and getting home just before the tram schedule switched over to the night service -- all of it. Laughter piled upon laughter, new ideas and interesting perspectives continuously floating around in the swirl of conversation. What an evening!

► I awoke (long before daylight, as is usual now) to a lazy snowfall Friday morning. It was one of those times when a relatively brief tram ride takes me from snow to rain to only cloudiness, then perhaps back to more snow. The seven hills of Prague certainly produce interesting weather differences very quickly. The snow seemed to be a little heavier as I was riding, and I got off into huge flakes coming down hard enough that they were beating a rhythm on my umbrella. And suddenly - - nothing but wet cobblestones and droopy hair. After class the sky seemed lower, the general color around me was that of frozen mist, as if the atmosphere had "frozen" the breath of the world as it exhaled.

► Fast forward to another, longer tram ride in the early afternoon. The view was unchanged from the previous several hours when I shut my eyes for a few moments, I guess just because it seemed like a nice idea. Now I know it was preparation for a major gift, because when I opened them I was in the middle of an incredible winter wonderland. In that area of the city the snow was wet and heavy, the bare branches had been dressed in white fleece at least three inches thick, the grassy areas between apartment buildings were under an untouched blanket of white. It was so dramatic that all I could do was gasp and stare. What a gift! As I descended -- very carefully -- from the tram, I was in the middle of brown slush and puddles. And even with that I couldn't take my eyes away from the incredible beauty around me. Wish you could have shared it with me.

► How many years now have I been humming along with "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire"? As usual, Wikipedia gave me a longer answer than I needed, but it certainly added some sparkle to my internal music score. I did know it was written during WWII, 1944 to be precise, by Mel Torme, that man with a golden voice. I didn't know he discovered four lines written by Bob Well, the lyricist, sitting on the piano. Wells wasn't intending to write a song; he was trying to "stay cool by thinking cool" during a hot Arizona summer. Those four lines -- Chestnuts roasting, Jack Frost nipping, Yuletide carols, Folks dressed up like Eskimos -- became what is/was the most-performed Christmas song. And it took only 40 minutes. (Enough time left to enjoy a glass of iced tea!)

And now it isn't just words -- "roasting chestnuts" is a real experience for me. When Dasa and Thomas and I were waiting for a train in her village this past summer, she exclaimed about the dying chestnut trees which had always sheltered the little waiting area. Tree after tree was either dead or soon would be. That was, I believe, the first time I thought about chestnuts coming from an "ordinary" source, as pecans do in Oklahoma. This holiday season I've seen many little stands selling hot roasted chestnuts as I walk between trams and between classes, and it was such a nice connection between summer and winter. But there has always been a reason to keep going, or to put it differently, a reason not to stop. This past week curiosity and some spare time won out! I indicated to the young man tending the chestnuts and the fire that I would like some. Right away he reached for a bag and a long handled large spoon, opened the giant pot, and weighed out my 100 grams. And yes, they were hot! Within a few moments, however, I could begin the peeling process. Oh my goodness. They are good! Rather soft, somewhat dry and mealy, very satisfying. Since I was close to the company, I closed the bag, hugged it tight so it wouldn't cool, and took it to my student. We opened class enjoying warm chestnuts and hot green tea -- talking in English all the time. It was just the right touch on a really cold day. One of the best parts was his smile of surprise when I asked to learn about eating chestnuts!

► All week the temperatures have been hovering in the mid- to high-20s at night, low- to mid-30s during the day, usually accompanied by a noticeable and sometimes brisk breeze. I normally wait to stroll across the Charles Bridge until a more pleasant day. This trip couldn't wait -- and it was wonderful. One of my "favorite" friends here is a lovely young California woman, former teacher of children with special needs, one of those people whose quiet smile just lights up a room. Whenever she admired a pair of earrings I was wearing the answer would always be "I got them on the Charles Bridge years ago." And she would always reply, "I wish you'd take me sometime." Yesterday we made our trip -- and I certainly hope it isn't our only one. What a marvelous excursion. We were both looking for gifts, both suitably huddled in our scarves and gloves, and both in the mood to walk and talk, and stop and look, and go back to something else, then forward to something new. Even the frozen fingers and toes couldn't stop us. They did, however, make us linger in the best looking heated tourist shop after we reached the other side of the Bridge! The trip was successful in every way -- she found just the right gift for a birthday party she was attending that evening, I found something I never thought of as a gift for Thomas (I do hope he likes it -- it's not on his list any more than it was on mine!), and we really warmed up at a small cozy restaurant near the US Embassy that she remembered from a freezing day trip last year about this time!


► And I never would have predicted that my plans for this Sunday evening would include a "Service of Lessons and Carols" -- one of my longstanding favorites of this season -- at an Anglican church. So many marvelous moments have been spent watching the Service from Westminster Cathedral at midnight on Christmas Eve. Other memorable times have been enjoyed preparing for and participating in the Service myself. And now, here I am, partway around the world, a series of unexpected choices bringing me to that Service again, joined by friends from Scotland, Britain, South Africa, and the US, as well an yet unknown friends. (I always enjoy eliciting the difference between "strangers" and "foreigners" from my students.) I do hope they folks planning the service haven't decided it's time for all new carols. And as I listen and sing, I know the memories will be crowding my spirit. It's a good thing I don't need to read the words. I'll be spending the evening with so many people who have shared the Service with me in the past. And who knows how many others will join the crowd in the future.

Have you noticed how much time we spend worrying about, fretting over, and dreading difficult events and times? (The news in the US is doing much of that for us, although personal concern is certainly justified!) My wish for you in this holiday season is that you will anticipate, expect, and plan for joy and peace. Joy waiting to surprise you in each new moment of your days, and peace deep within you, knowing that the right things do happen at the right time. It is our perception and awareness which is limited. I'm learning. Fortunately the process is continuously reinforced! I hope you also are being surprised by joy.