Beautiful! Gorgeous! Wish you were here!!

"Beautiful! Gorgeous! Wish you were here!" These are the words unexpectedly exclaimed by Meg Ryan in the movie "French Kiss" as she walks down a street in the French Riviera. She is there to find her ex-fiance who has fallen in love with a French woman and to make him once again fall in love with her. She travels to this foreign country where she can't speak the language or eat the cheese (because she is lactose intolerant), and she does so with this singular goal in mind. However, along the way, she meets a Frenchman played by Kevin Kline and of course, she eventually realizes that her ex-fiance was a loser and she is in fact, now desperately in love with this new man. (Oops...spoiler alert.) Anyway, there is a scene in the movie as they are walking, having a conversation about what to do next and Meg is very focused on the task at hand - she must find her ex and reclaim his love - when suddenly, out of nowhere, she stops, holds out her arms, looks around and is fully in the moment as she sees all the beauty around her. It is then that she throws this blessing and wish out to the Universe..."Beautiful! Gorgeous! Wish you were here!"

I've had this same thought many times while traveling around the world and as I begin traveling once again, I've decided that rather than just randomly throwing the thought out to the universe, I'll share some of these beautiful moments with you. My job is to find out about wonderful destinations in the world at which companies can host meetings and events for their employees, sales force, or clients. I travel to these places in order to visit the finest hotels, dine at the best restaurants, and see what each place and each culture offers for groups to visit. (I know what you're thinking..."where do I apply?" - trust me, it isn't always quite so glamorous). While I am doing these "site inspections", I am very focused - I'm looking at square footage of meeting space, ceiling heights, distances to airport or cultural attractions, conditions of properties, levels of service, etc. In the past, I've allowed myself to focus only on some of these elements while not necessarily giving due justice to the "beautiful and gorgeous" of each place. 

So travel along with me in the coming months. We will journey first to the Bahamas, and then to Moab, Utah (which is actually a personal trip), on to Scotland and then to Ireland...and who knows what else we might throw in there in-between. Along the way, I'll share with you what I'm seeing. Maybe some of these places are places that you plan to go or dream to go, or maybe they are just places that you will see through my eyes. In any case, I'll take you along and I'll be sure to stop often during the journey...taking a moment to exclaim "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Wish you were here!"

A Very Belated Apology To My Older Sister...

There is a bank of deserted telephone booths in a small town in northern Minnesota and every time I drive by, it makes me feel just a little bit nostalgic. At one time, phone booths were everywhere and then almost overnight, cell phones made them irrelevant. Practically everyone now carries their own phone in their purse or pocket and I realize that my grandchildren will never know the simple pains and pleasures of a life with one shared house phone that hung on the wall or sat on the counter. I'm sure many of you remember what it was like. Everyone in the house had to wait their turn to make a call, or were constantly being scolded to "get off that phone", and would race whenever it rang to have the honor of answering it..."I'll get it! I'll get it!" To my grandkids, these stories will sound as unbelievable as the stories we heard from our own parents and grandparents about walking to school over a  mile, up hill both ways, in snow up to their waists, with nothing but a hot potato in their pocket to keep them warm...and then they would have to eat that potato for lunch. (Or at least, that's the story my dad always told me.) To be honest, I think I and my peers will likely be the last generation to even have a phone in their house - my younger nieces and nephews do not, neither do my daughters. Yet, for those of us who grew up with a landline, we are resistant to let it go - whether it is due to a sense of security (what if all the cell networks stop working?), or simply holding onto something from the past. 

Anyway, I was thinking about this as I drove by these deserted phone booths last weekend and remembered a time when I needed to make a call, and because there were no cell phones in 1982, I had to use a phone booth. My friend, Janice, and I had taken the day off from school to tour a business college in Minneapolis. She drove and, as will likely happen to a couple teenagers girls from the suburbs, we quickly got lost in the city and had no idea where to go. We finally saw a phone booth and Janice pulled over so I could call my dad for directions. I dropped in my dime (kids, that's what dimes were originally created for...to make calls from phone booths....and to find under your pillow from the tooth fairy...I have no idea what dimes are used for now) and called my dad's office. I told him we were lost and asked him where we should go. He asked me to look around for a street sign and tell him where I was which I did. And this is what he told me..."Theresa, it doesn't matter where you go, just get out of there." (Apparently, we weren't in the nicest part of the city.) And that's what we did.

Anyway, there's really no point to my entry today. Just sharing a memory and a moment of nostalgia with those of us who used to share the same phone. And also a very belated apology to my sister who I completely humiliated in 1978 by answering the phone when her boyfriend called and telling him she couldn't come to the phone because she was in the bathroom. That was another problem with sharing a phone...overly honest siblings.

Facing The Next Phase

As most of us do throughout our lifetimes, my daughter Mollie transitioned through a number of phases as she was growing up. Each phase of her story was lived with great passion and commitment but when it was time to move on, that is what she did - moved on to the next step in the journey. I'm trying today to remind myself of this and to learn from the lessons of her phases.

I think it all began when she was about three years old and decided that she would wear nothing but dresses. However, because she was a typical 3-year old, her days were rough and tumble. Looking back, I think I might have been able to pay for her first year of college with what we spent in new pairs of tights alone. Each day, she would run off in her dress and a fresh pair of white tights. And each day, she would come home wearing tights that were barely held together by the runs in each knee.

The dress phase gave way to the leggings phase. One day, for no specific reason that I can recall, she decided that she would no longer wear dresses...at all. And instead, we invested in a wardrobe that consisted only of black leggings and coordinating tops (much as my own wardrobe does now actually.)

Then came the denim head scarf years which were likely brought about by the "my hair is on vacation today" phase. For nearly 2 years, she wore a little denim head scarf every single day. Knowing that she took this fashion accessory very seriously, I tried to buy her other scarves to wear and in a pinch, she would occasionally force herself. But it seemed to work best to just keep washing her favorite scarf until it was faded, and shredded, and took up permanent residence in my cedar chest.

It seems at that point, her phases became more intellectual. For many years, she dreamed of being an Egyptologist someday. She even mummified my childhood Ken doll and created a sarcophogus for him from an old shoe box as a school project (he lies, still mummified, next to her denim scarf in my cedar chest.).

All these phases carried her though grade school, her high school years, and to her most recent phases of college, then graduating, and now, just yesterday, she began a new phase - living on her own away from home. She is happy and so excited and though I will miss her and occasionally worry, I am reassured by the fact that she always faces each new life phase with passion and commitment and each new phase has been better than the one before.

This is where the lesson lies for me as well. Because, as she transitions on to this next phase, I am facing my own transition as well. I've called John and I "empty nesters" before - each Fall when she would return to school. But the truth is, I always knew she would be coming home each summer. It was only a temporary phase. That's not the case this time, it is likely that John and I are truly full time, permanent, for the rest of our lives, empty nesters now. And, I'm allowing myself to "mourn" the past phase just  a bit today...and today only. Because the reality is that I know this next phase will be exciting and full of amazing experiences and many happy days. 

My brother, Steven, is also moving on to a new phase of his life this weekend. On Friday, he served his final day as a police officer with the Crystal Police Department. After 32 years of service, this "job" has been a part of his identity, his co-workers have become his family, and I expect for him, moving on to the next phase might be leaving him with the same sense of regret and yet, excitement for what comes next that I'm experiencing too.

I've long held the belief that some of the greatest lessons in life can be taught to us by watching our children and being open to the lessons that their lives have for us. So, it's with this in mind that I look back up on dress and legging years, denim head scarves, and all the other phases that Mollie went through as she found her way in life. And I know that most phases of our life, while loved and enjoyed, are only temporary and are meant to bring us to the next step. So we box up memories of the old, and put them in cedar chests to be taken out and held every now and then. But more importantly, we face the new phase with equal passion and a sense for adventure and anticipation of what lies ahead.

Wherever you find yourself today, whatever phase of life you are in, I hope that you are living the day and enjoying the moments as they come. 

What Happens To The Moment You Are In?

I began a new adventure this week and along with it...a new commitment. There are not too many things that I regret up to this point in my life but there is something that I regret greatly. I've been fortunate to have the opportunity to travel to some amazing places - Tahiti, London, Amsterdam, Paris, Costa Rica, Puerto Rico, Hawaii - and at the time, I knew I was lucky to be there. However, I also struggled with a conflict of feelings about where else I should be at the time or what else I should be doing. For many of those years, I had young children at home and being away from home left them and my husband on their own to manage daily life. So while I was grateful for the places I visited, I wasn't living in the moments that I was in. I  focused instead on what I was missing, what I should do when I got home, what were my next "to do's", and a million other thoughts that took me away from the present.

What I know now is that none of that did me any good. I was where I was and other responsibilities were where they were. And ignoring the experience that I was currently in as I concentrated on the places I was not, didn't allow me to be in both places at once but rather, I'm not sure I was fully in the place that I was in! (Wow...that just might be the most confusing sentence I've ever written but yet also one of the most honest.)

However, I'm older now (and maybe even just a tiny bit wiser) and I've grown to appreciate life in a different way. I know that I can only be in one moment at one time and at this point in my life, I have the luxury of allowing myself to focus on the present. So, as I dig into my new venture, I have made a commitment to myself - that I will do it differently this time. I will pay attention. I will appreciate the present. I will live in the moment. Not only when I travel, but to the best of my ability everyday of my life. 

Perhaps you will consider a similar commitment to yourself. In fact, you owe it to yourself. Don't look back with regret about moments that were lost. Enjoy the moments today....

"We Are Each The Love Of Someone's Life"...

"We are each the love of someone's life."

So begins "The Confessions of Max Tivoli", a novel by Andrew Sean Greer that I highly recommend for a summer read. The story (which is a little bit Benjamin-Button like) follows the life of Max Tivoli born into an old man's body who grows younger with time. But the real center of the story is about love - specifically his love for one woman his entire life. Due to his unusual circumstances, she never knows the truth about Max and he must find her at various points in their lives and love her in a different way. It's a beautiful and romantic love story written with insight that is almost poetic. A sampling....

"It takes too much imagination to see the sorrows of people we take for happy. Their real battles take place, like those of the stars, in some realm of light imperceptible to the human eye. It is a feat of the mind to guess another's heart."

"What do we abandon to claim our heart's desire? What do we become?"

"If I am lucky...I will float down the current until it meets the river, slowly, over weeks, for I will just be sleeping, still alive, growing younger every hour, as the river takes me along its swelling center, a boy, a child, ever younger until I am at last a little baby floating under the stars, a shivering baby, dreaming of no particular thing - borne into the dark womb of the sea."

And now for a "Confession of Theresa Link", I am a bit of a romantic at heart. But the deeper confession is this...(and don't laugh or judge me), but a couple years ago, when Prince William married Kate Middleton, I actually took the day off from work so that I could get up in the middle of the night and watch the entire event from the procession through London to the vows to the final wave from the balcony. I don't have any particular feeling about the monarchy itself - my attraction is really based more on little girl fantasies about kings, and queens, and castles, and a romance that will become a part of history. We see history happen every day but most often it is the tragic or the frightening that is our focus. However, this event was history in the making for a completely different reason - for pure romance. And I loved every minute of it. Today, their love story continues as the royal baby is in the process of entering the world...and their own place in history...their own place in the fairy tale. 

"We are each the love of someone's life". Whether it is a quiet love in the small town where we were raised, or a love story that will be documented in the pages of history, what's the harm in hoping for the fairy tale? Just for today, take a moment to relish in a romance. 

Everything Seems To Have Gotten "BIGGER"...

It seems that so many of life’s moments have suddenly become opportunity for grandiose gestures and larger-than-life efforts.  Moments that are significant in of themselves now require months of planning, extensive project plans, and a film crew. And it leaves me wondering, do moments of our life only matter if they are “bigger” than everyone else’s?

Every moment whether monumental or routine, and whether public or private, has become a competition to be bigger than the one before...

• I feel sorry for 16 year old boys who not only have to stress about possible rejection when asking their crush to prom, but also have to plan an elaborate scavenger hunt of romantic clues culminating in fireworks which spell out “will you go to prom with me?” 
• Weddings used to be enough work with arranging the service, buying the dress, drafting the guest list, and planning the reception. But now, we are led to believe that the invitations should be works of art delivered by a gloved messenger, all the décor should be handmade and personalized to the bride and groom, and guests should be entertained with photo booths and endless games. The father of the bride and bride should enroll in months of dance class in order to choreograph their own customized 7-minute dance parody, and after the wedding, we need to plan a “trash the dress” photo shoot as the bride and groom submerge themselves underwater in some sort of tropical location - destroying the dress that cost them (or their parents) a large sum of money.
• Service members arriving home (which, admittedly is a monumental moment deserving of recognition) now require elaborate plans to surprise their children in schools or in front of thousands at a national sporting event, all while it is recorded by film crews and broadcast across the internet. It seems that at least once each week, one of these videos will come across my computer and I watch them all…and I cry each time. They are beautiful and touching…and just a bit much sometimes.

I don’t mean to diminish the passion of the efforts or the intent behind making these experiences so significant. And I admit to having been guilty of “making the moment bigger” myself on more than one occasion. However, I wonder about it sometimes. Where does it end? Do we become less sensitive to the emotion in the present when we are constantly confronted with someone’s bigger-than-life moment? And I guess, most importantly, does making things so BIG leave us under-appreciating the moments that might be small?

I remember once when Mollie was a little girl – maybe 4 or 5 years old. I was all about creating experiences for the kids when they were growing up – going to the zoo, the renaissance, the Mall of America, dance classes, horseback riding, instruments….busy, busy, busy.  But one Saturday morning, Mollie and I spent the entire morning sitting on the couch – with her snuggled in my arms as I read to her. It was a beautiful day outside and there were so many things we could have been doing; and in fact, I’m sure I had a list of things to do that day – experiences to make her day “bigger”.  But somehow that all fell away and it was just me, Mollie, and a stack of her favorite books. And yet, looking back, it is one of my strongest memories from when she was little. It was insignificant by most accounts. No planning was needed. No invitations were sent. No photos were taken. But, because of its simplicity, it was one of the best mornings ever.

As a former event planner, I understand and appreciate the makings of a good event. And as I mentioned, I wholeheartedly take part in many of these experiences as either planner or guest. I guess all I’m saying is that it’s important to not let the planning and the creation of the memory overtake the memory itself. Try to keep your eye on the smaller moments of life as well because it is the sum of those smaller moments that come together to create your life experiences, your memories, your story.

Enjoy the moment!

School's Out For Summer...For Some...

It’s a feeling that we likely all can recall…the thrill of being a kid on the last day of school.  You have cleaned out your desk (crayons worn down and erasers hardly used), taken down the art projects from the wall, and enjoyed the end of year field trips.  And now, a Summer lies before you that includes sleeping in, playing with your friends, riding your bike, taking trips, staying up late…whatever summer adventures come your way. I’m always envious (no, that’s not honest, I’m downright JEALOUS) of kids and teachers every year at this time because of the freedom that lies before them and also because of the “defining moment” when they can transition from the school year into enjoying Summer.

This year we are all struggling with one of the worst Spring seasons of my memory. Up until only weeks ago, we were still dealing with snow and since then, we continue to only be blessed with possibly one day of sunshine sandwiched in between days on end of grey, wet weather. I’ve only ridden my bike once. I haven’t gotten one sunburn yet (I know that should be a good thing…but let’s be honest, as Minnesotan’s, the first one always feels kind of good). We’ve grilled only twice. And our patio furniture is still packed away in the attic. Sorry for being a kill-joy, but for me, it just doesn’t feel to me much like “school’s out for summer”.

The slow seasonal change is affecting my attitude and I’m guessing that I might not be alone. Earlier this spring, I heard it referred to as “snanger” (combination of snow and anger). Now I might call it “frustummer” (frustrated with lack of summer). However, I recognize that is only my attitude and that I do have the power to control my own attitude.

So what’s the plan? How do I shake off this horrible Spring and enjoy a taste of the anticipation of Summer that all school kids feel at this time of year? I think, for me, the plan is to make a plan. Summer is all too fleeting and I’m guessing that this one might feel shorter than most. So I need to take advantage of the beautiful days that will surely be ahead. I've planned festivals that I want to attend, trips I want to take, summer recipes I want to try, and goals I hope to accomplish. Having a plan makes me feel better as it gives me hope that Summer is just around the corner, and makes me accountable to make the most of it. So while I may not be able to sleep in every day or play with my friends until the sun is setting and my Dad whistles loudly the "time to come home, kids" tune, I'm still excited for the end of Spring and a season of possibilities ahead.