Always Saving For Tomorrow

I find myself, momentarily, trying to explain my general happiness... maybe it is the quasi-vacation status of this whole adventure. I have no car, television, or cell phone to distract me from the moment. It might just be because I am getting a solid 7-8 hours of sleep now that Judah is no longer nursing at night (!!!!, but that will be for another post.) Whatever the reason, life just seems really, well, beautiful here in Vienna. That is not to say that this time isn't difficult. It has its momentary lows. My vocabulary is basically generated from and limited to Jude's toddler German books. On most of my travels, the conversation is focused on one of three central themes: trucks/things that go, foods/bananas, or barnyard animals. Meeting people is more difficult and connecting with those I love back home is harder as well.

But...

Did you know they put chocolate in their cereal here? And they don't make you feel bad by calling it "Choc-o-what have you". They give it the air of health and nutrition by calling it "Schoko Musli," which I think is completely acceptable for a grown woman to eat for breakfast (or dinner.) I joke, but it's more than the wealth of my three favorite food groups, chocolate, gummi, and booze that makes me love it here. I find so much of what Austrian society appears to value very appealing. The Viennese really know how to enjoy themselves. From sitting outside people watching, to making use of the common spaces and connecting with friends and family at cafes, it is a culture of action and interaction.

I find it all too easy at this point to segue into a critique of all that I think is backwards about the way we do things in the U.S. (and from my vantage point, there is a lot there), but it is so much more interesting to share the little nugget of insight I gleaned from the last month and the thoughts above. I remember reading an essay a few months back that somehow stayed with me. Basically, this author had been given an expensive bottle of perfume as a gift and beyond any sentimental attachment, she absolutely loved the way it smelled. She never wore it except on very special occasions, the logic being that if she used it on a daily basis, she would use it up and find herself unable to replace it. She went on to reflect on this attitude towards consumption and joy. The perfume was not rare or excessively difficult to obtain. In the age of the internet, she easily could have located and afforded to buy a new bottle once the first one had been used. However, she didn't. There was something that kept her from allowing herself to truly take in the thing that made her happy. The gist, we portion out our enjoyment of life into small, calculated doses, all too often sucking out the very happiness we are trying to preserve.

Maybe it is out Puritan roots, but I can't for the life of me figure out what we Americans are so afraid of when it comes to loving the living of life. Its crazy, but since I have been here, I have not seen a single drunk person, yet everywhere you go people are drinking beer and wine at cafes throughout the day. I have yet to see an obese person, but I have not seen a single gym and all they offer with their coffees is whole milk and real sugar. Its balance... its moderation... BUT most importantly (and this, I think is where so many of us get it wrong) it is the primacy of enjoyment. So, I pledged to myself to live the life of those around me for the short time we have here. Maybe we are on to something. We don't have tons of resources, but we can certainly squeeze in some nice yarn and a croissant and coffee for the park. Baby happy? Check. Mama happy? Check.

In truth, I know all of this will end. Our family will return to the States, to "real" life without palaces and century old churches towering over us as we lay in the grass. I assume that we will reclaim our car and connect up those cell phones...but does life need to be any less about the enjoyment of living? How does one replicate the "Vienna factor" in a less dramatic locale, say Miami, Florida or Anywhere, USA? Well, don't mete out fun like it is a life sentence. Life is too difficult and too short to restrict the pure joy that can be found by simply allowing yourself to take in the things that you want and crave in the world around you.

So, open that bottle of wine you've been saving, make pancakes for breakfast everyday for a week, take the walk to the place you enjoy most in your city... It's your day! Save the whales, save your money, but don't save the things that make you happiest in life for tomorrow.

The Post I've Been Wanting to Write For Weeks

Moves of any sort are rough. There are the three distinct phases, the build up, the move, and the wind down, and each phase carries with it its own indigenous stress.

Well the dust has settled and we have re-established the delicate, vital order that holds our little family together. Now it is time to give thanks.

About a month ago, my mom and I put together an impromptu Thanksgiving dinner. My brother completed his coursework for his B.A. and his favorite meal is, well, Thanksgiving. The act of eating Thanksgiving got me thinking about first, how happy I was to get a turkey dinner, even if it came with air conditioning and shorts in July. However, before the sedating effects of the tryptophan could set in, I began to think about how none of this great leap across the world could have been possible without the undying support and efforts of our loved ones.

It was a bewildering summer of what ifs and what nexts? But when I think about all the moments and experiences we were able to cram into the couple of months we had in Michigan, I have to say that Summer of 2010 is one of the best I can remember.

Sure we did a lot. We stood post to watch the S.S. Badger come into dock in the evening evening, we ate "our" first ice cream cone, we saw Elk, and deer, and beavers. I learned how to crochet, and play Mahjong, and bake bread. Jude learned how to moo, baa, and neigh. We parked it and beached it...

But by far, the best moments of our summer, were the ones spent with family and friends. I am taken aback by how many good people made the trek all the way up to Ludington to visit with us and show us how much we mean to them. For this I am thankful.

This summer will keep me warm well into the new year.