Swirly Girl

Well I'll Be AmsterDamned

See - I didn't just make that up - it's a cafe!

 

I could have photographed this dog all day.

 

I love that picture in the window.

 

The obligatory feet shot.

 

The flowers were in bloom all over.

 

Canal traffic jam.

 

They really need to learn how to lighten up around here.

I have many more photos which will be posted when I return home.  A good majority of the pictures I've taken so far were shot this afternoon as my husband and I sat at a cafe and watched all the boats go by.  We heard a lot of techno music, inhaled some gas fumes, and witnessed a number of bona fide canal traffic jams.  Boats went by with big groups and small groups, carrying mopeds, bicycles, amps (to blare the techno music), dogs, babies, and plenty of wine and picnic food.  I kept wanting to jump onto one of the boats and join the fun, and something tells me it would have been totally OK to be a party crasher (literally).

Next up:  Berlin!

Love Letter to Amsterdam

Dear Amsterdam...I have been here only just over 24 hours and what can I say?  I'm already madly in love with you!  OK, so maybe I lucked out with beautiful weather, and I'm also here on a weekend, but still, I cannot help but gush.

Our hotel is close to the Red Light District, so from there we have taken our time walking to the Anne Frank House, the Flower Market and, today, the Van Gogh Museum.  There are people everywhere - cafes are full, narrow streets are crowded, bicycles are whizzing by, and the canals have oodles of boats filled with revelers of all kinds.

The atmosphere is friendly in a whoop-it-up-let's-party kind of way, and as I stroll around I find it hard to believe I didn't make it here on the two big backpacking trips I took to Europe right afte college.  Then again, I might have had a little bit too much fun had I been here in my early 20s, so perhaps it was for the best.

In any case, I'm in love with you now, and I'm so grateful to have shared this time with you.  Tomorrow I am on flight number two of the five I'll be taking on this trip - headed to Berlin - but please know I will be leaving with a smile on my face.

Yours forever, Christine

Taking Off

I feel like I should say I've been on pins and needles all week, wondering if our trip to Europe was going to happen, but as soon the stories of Eyjafjallajokull (don't you just love that name?) started filling the headlines, I immediately started getting used to the idea of staying put and having a wide open week in my studio.  I didn't pack, didn't wonder, didn't worry, didn't really think about it, until my husband came home Wednesday evening and said, "Looks like we're headed across the Atlantic."

I leave this afternoon on what is going to be a whirlwind of a trip that will take me to Amsterdam, Berlin and Copenhagen - three cities I have never visited and am eager to explore.  I am tagging along with my husband on a business trip, so part of my experience there will be getting us settled into each hotel, and, yes, carting around our big suitcase from hotels to airports and so on since he will have to meet me here and there.  Because I haven't given this trip a whole lot of thought this week, I literally do not have a single plan for this journey - I have no guidebooks, no plans, nothing more than advice and suggestions offered to me in emails and on websites, printed out on a stack of papers I'll be reading on the flight. 

Actually, that isn't entirely true.  One of the suggestions someone gave me for Berlin was a shop entirely devoted to licorice.  I am definitely checking that out; otherwise Berlin - and Amsterdam and Copenhagen - are all blank slates.  How exciting is that?  So much awaits me, and I have no idea what it is.  That is my favorite way to travel.

I'm taking a laptop with me this time around and will be posting photos throughout the week.  I have one entry for The 100 Books Project scheduled to go up over the weekend (this is one of my favorite stories yet), and then next week updates from Europe!

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.”  ~Martin Buber

The Dead Sea

[Yara, Swirly & Renee, waiting for our mud to dry before getting back into the Dead Sea for another float.  This picture is now my screen saver.  Photo taken by Tara Bradford.]

I just posted some more photos from my recent trip to Jordan.  They are all right here, and recent uploads have images from the Jordan River, the Dead Sea and Aqaba.  I have stories to share from each of these places, and I'll start here with the Dead Sea, an experience that took me by surprise in terms of how much crazy fun it was.  All I knew about the Dead Sea before going was that it is the lowest point on earth, its high salt content meant that nothing lived in its waters, and I would float.  I knew it was going to be a unique experience, but I had no idea it would be so much fun.

I will never forget wading into the water with my fellow travelers, and the water was just chilly enough to make us all a tiny bit hesitant.  Renee was the first to let herself fall back into the water, and as soon as she began floating it was "OHMYGOSH, this is so trippy!!", and her excitement inspired me to follow her lead immediately, which led to my own version of "OHMYGOSH, this is wild!!" and one by one, we each did our own little freak out.

It is hard to explain the feeling of floating in the water.  We could float in a sort of v-shape (butts down, arms on top of the water, feet pointed up), could turn over onto our stomachs and pretend we were Superman, or we could make our bodies flat like a board with our arms folded behind our heads as if we were lying on the grass watching the clouds go by.  And we could not stop laughing, could not prevent ourselves from expressing how amazed and excited we were to be floating.

We also had fun slathering the warm mud from the Dead Sea all over ourselves, and after twenty minutes or so when we rinsed it all off, our skin was glowing and smooth.  We then enjoyed some more time pretending we were lily pads - floating still on top of the water - and reluctantly headed back inside to change when it was time to go.

When I lived in Santa Barbara, I used to surf regularly.  I still can't believe I did this, but I was serious enough that during the high surf season, which was winter, I would get up and be in the water by 6:00 or 6:30am, braving the icy cold water so I could get sloshed around as if I were in a giant washing machine for a couple of hours.  Dragging myself out of bed and facing that first feeling of bracing cold ocean water pouring into every crevice of my wetsuit was always worth it though, because letting the ocean toss me around for a while always gave me the most tremendous energy.  I literally felt like I was tingling and glowing inside after surfing.  I felt the same way this past summer in Hawaii - when I spent as much time in the water as possible - and I felt that way after floating in the Dead Sea.  Every cell in my body is happy when I spend time in the ocean, and that is one of the reasons I said good-bye to the Dead Sea feeling ever so slightly buzzed - grateful for every moment with the salt, the sun, the mud and the laughter.

"We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop."  ~Mother Teresa of Calcutta

The Moment

It was actually a few steps back when I caught my first glimpse of the Treasury at Petra.  After walking through a narrow canyon formed by rock the colors of deep mustard, rust, and blazing orange for a mile or so, the first bit of the Treasury that can be seen is part of the top.  A few steps further and the perspective above comes into view, an image that has been photographed a zillion times over - one of the most iconic images of a city a group of Arabian nomads called the Nabataeans built around the first century B.C.  I had dreamed of this moment for years - tried to imagine what it would be like to stand in front of this structure built into the walls of a canyon and then explore all the other details of an area that goes on as far as the eye can see.  We only had about a day and half to soak in a place that really needs a week or more, but I'm not complaining.  It was this moment - the moment when I took the photo above - that was my reward, a moment that did not disappoint.

I am back home now, still not entirely over jet lag, a husband home sick, groceries to buy, work to do, deeply troubling family issues still to resolve.  In other words, that moment is past now and I have slowly wound my way back into the day-to-day of my life in Santa Monica.  But my day-to-day now has this new piece, this new detail; like the bracelet I purchased in the nook of an antique shop in Amman, it is here with me now, adding an entirely new dimension to the background of my days.  I rode two airplanes, a van and a horse to get to that spot, and then I made my way back home, and even though all the dust from Petra has been washed out of my hair, the memory is lodged in my consciousness permanently, guiding me to my next ideas, dreams and challenges.

While it would be over-dramatic to say that moment changed my life (or maybe it did - it is likely too early to tell), it did lock another puzzle piece into place.  To be perfectly honest, I feel like my bank account of Dreams Come True is bursting at the seams already, but I still somehow manage to forget the immense power of these moments.  I have written much about the smaller moments, the moments that look ordinary and worn out, perhaps sometimes trying to deflect too much attention away from these grander instances when I am standing smack in the middle of a longed for experience.  At the same time, I have also made it my mission to encourage the world to pursue their dreams and create a meaningful life; I built a business around the idea, and I continue to cheer people on as much as I possibly can.  But have I written enough about these moments?  About the exact instance I looked up - not expecting to see the Treasury just yet - and saw it peek through the canyon?  The moment it came into view and I immediately looked away, tears in my eyes and heart pounding, wanting so badly to stop the clock and squeeze every bit of emotion I could out of that millisecond of time in the history of my life.

 

All I could think as I walked towards the opening in the canyon to stand in full view of the Treasury was, "I am here...I am here," not quite believing I had managed to get myself to a Middle Eastern country surrounded my all kinds of tension and chaos, to this place that was once a thriving metropolis so long ago as to be unfathomable.  It is not like the high of a drug - an experience that becomes a craving, something that I live for in blindness to all beauty in my everyday life - it is more a reminder of the expansiveness of possibility in the world:  What is possible?  Anything!  On the same note, it provides a bittersweet recognition of how strange the story of a life sometimes is...how it can be easier to travel 7000 miles away to one of the most dangerous regions of the world and return home safely than to open one single door of communication between myself and a member of my family.  How I felt more seen and understood by people I had never met before this trip than someone I have known my entire life.

It is dichotomies like those that I love exploring.  I cannot help but turn the bright side of a coin over to its darker face, wanting to understand every possible facet of meaning in these moments.  Because to only expose myself to one or the other, I lose the opportunity to fully understand and embrace all that I am given.  And it is not about wanting to downplay the magnificence of the moment of realizing a dream - it is not about wanting to hang a dark cloud over it or smother its voice - it is about seeing all the feelings and thoughts it inspires, and instead of judging them as good, bad, happy or sad, I simply sit with all of them, knowing they all have their place in yet another extraordinary story in the journey of my life.

[The first photos from Petra are here.]

Radiance

 

 

 “Your powerful radiance is burning the entire universe, and filling it with splendor..."

~Bhagavad Gita

[More photos are here and here.]

There is so Much to Share

I downloaded all of my photos from Jordan yesterday, and as I scrolled through them I became immediately overwhelmed, wondering how on earth I would be able to organize, format and post more than 1500 photos.  Although who am I kidding - all 1500 images aren't worth posting, but that's still a big number to sort through.  So it will likely take some time for me to shuffle through the deck, pick my favorites and figure out the best way to share the stories associated with these pictures, not to mention I will likely get on your nerves before too long as this blog is about to become an All Jordan, All the Time network.

 

It has long been a dream of mine to see Jordan - Petra in particular - and it was one of those dreams that always felt just out of my reach.  I have traveled all over the world, but the idea of bandying about in the Middle East - in a country that borders Egypt, Israel, Syria, Saudi Arabia and Iraq - seemed unlikely.  A nice dream to have, but not one to really hope or plan for.  But I really should have known better, because I felt the same way about Cuba, and an opportunity to go there fell in my lap in March 2006, and two weeks later I was on a plane to Havana.

When will I learn?

Once again, a wish I had tucked away in a remote part of my brain - where it was safe from my deepest longings - came to life unexpectedly thanks to Tara Bradford, who decided it was time to share her love for a country she has strong ties to.  She gathered together an extraordinary group of travelers, and in the course of one week we hit just about every major hot spot in Jordan.  I'm not usually a fan of such go-go-go journeys, but it was impossible not to enjoy every single moment surrounded by such a passionate, generous, courageous, lighthearted group.  I am still in awe of the fact that not only did I get to go to a part of the world I've dreamed of for years, but I got to see and experience it with them.

Sometimes my good fortune overwhelms me to the point of tears, and in this case it makes me want to howl at the moon.   

I honestly don't know where to begin.  Two of my fellow travelers - Rebecca and Gillian - have already posted two wonderful essays about this trip, and what I love most about this is that I am now getting to know them in an entirely new way.  There has been much discussion in the blogosphere about all the ways we share who we are in our blogs, and how a blog, by its nature, is always going to present an incomplete picture, whether we intend it that way or not.  Not to mention that certain perspectives, ideas and thoughts aren't capable of coming to life until after we're back home, bags unpacked, jet lag still lingering.  So as I try to process and share all the wonder and beauty of my time in Jordan, I will also be savoring all the ways everyone else on this trip processes and shares their memories.

 

On our last day in Jordan, our brilliant, generous, beautiful driver William explained to all of us how we helped him see Jordan in new ways.  I get weepy thinking of this, knowing that after all the extraordinary gifts he gave us, that we, too, opened his heart in ways I don't think he had expected.  It is easy to walk by the same building everyday and not notice it - to consider it simply part of the background of my everyday life.  But the instant I walk by that same building with someone who has never seen it - someone who perhaps notices an interesting crack in the window or the color of its walls - I am given the gift of an entirely new perspective.  All nine of us saw different things as we traveled around Amman, Petra, Aqaba and Jerash, and I am looking forward to seeing Jordan through everyone else's eyes as much as I am looking forward to sharing my own stories.

 

On my just-under-24-hour journey home, my mind kept replaying image after image after image of a trip that included being the object of the most intense curiosity of my life on a public beach in Aqaba, talking to women involved in the Bani Hamida Weaving Project, exploring Petra, eating enough hummus to feed an elephant and smoking a hookah pipe.  My heart and mind are crowded with so many moments and memories, each one clamoring for attention, wanting to be distilled to its essence, expressed and then released into the world on wings of gold.  I must now ask all of these stories to be still, and be patient, and trust that in time they will each be given due attention, whether through a photograph, a work of art, a story or maybe even a dance.

There is so much to share, and only so much time, but I will do my best.  This is my promise to you, dear Jordan, for you have blessed me in ways even I have yet to discover.

[My first round of photos are right here.]

Wanting More

[Taken last week at Petra, Jordan]

 

Five Things :: Jordan

This week I'm in Jordan, visiting these places:

1.  Petra, pictured above

2.  The Dead Sea

3.  Amman

4.  Wadi Rum

5.  Jerash

Departure

[View from a flight home from Tokyo in 2005.]

I have been posting a lot of these bird's-eye views from airplanes lately  - have I just been fixated on my next journey or does it mean something else?

Either way, I'm about to have a rather large chunk of time to ponder that and any other questions rattling around in my brain.  Five hours from Los Angeles to New York followed by eleven hours from New York to Amman - yes, I'd say that's plenty of time to over-analyze my choice of blog imagery for the past week.

Believe it or not, I am looking forward to the time.  Time in an airplane means one simple thing:  Time to myself.  No phones, no internet, no errands, no laundry.  Just me in a tiny space where I've been known to spend hours at a time just staring out the window.  How often do I do that in my normal day-to-day routines?  That would be never.

I have a few posts scheduled to go up this week while I am away, but I won't be blogging, emailing or twittering while I am in Jordan.  I know there is a certain allure to documenting my experiences in real time, but I also know that any minute I spend with my attention on an iPhone or laptop is attention taken away from whatever I'll be seeing and experiencing in Jordan.  It takes effort to stop, pull away from what is directly in front me and type whatever I might feel compelled to type, and in that break, time is lost.  What could have been a naturally flowing experience is instead broken up in smaller bits - episodes interrupted by blocks of time spent with my head buried in a wireless device - head down, eyes on a screen, attention diverted away from what is going on around me.

This week, I will be in Jordan, and when I say I will be in Jordan, I mean I will be in Jordan.  And although the technological wonders of our day could enable me to stay connected to the rest of the world with the same intensity and frequency that I have when I'm home, I'm planning on leaving all that behind, and saving my stories for when I return.  It was an interesting thought experiment to visualize what it might look and feel like to be standing in front of Petra - fulfilling a dream I've had for years - only to take my full attention away from it to shout out to the online world that I'm standing in front of Petra.  When I really looked at that, it became clear to me that my intention needs to be about being there, plain and simple.

I suppose a more succinct way of saying all this is that I am looking forward to stepping away from my computer and my phone, and enjoying a journey I've dreamed about for many years.  Petra awaits, or should I say, I await Petra, and whatever messages this journey has in store for me.