The Anatomy of a Raindrop

During my freshman year of college I lived with a girl named Lizzie. Lizzie hailed from Salt Lake City, Utah, and she was not a Mormon.

I have many pictures of Lizzie in my memory: Lizzie digging her hand into her giant popcorn bowl; Lizzie covered from head to toe in shaving cream; Lizzie with a red letter “R” painted on her stomach. One of the most vivid memories I have of Lizzie is of her sitting on the covered porch outside our dorm, looking up at the pouring rain and flashing sky, experiencing her first Arizona thunder storm.

Each streak of lightning burnt palm tree silhouettes into the steel-grey clouds. The thunder that followed rolled across the sound waves like boulders shaken from a mountainside. And Lizzie sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, in awe.

As a native Arizonan, I too used to gaze up at the sky, smile as drops hit my skin, inhale the scent of dampened creosote plants and give thanks for the rain blessing the parched desert earth.

Yet living here in Paris made me forget my gratitude. It is not hyperbole to say it rained all winter here. Nor is it an exaggeration to say Paris had no spring. Now, when the first day of summer is only 4 days away, the weather fluctuates between June and November.

Hence, when raindrops began to fall onto my plate as I sat on my balcony eating tonight’s dinner, I felt annoyed and depressed.

But then I remembered Lizzie.

That picture of her admiring the bursting summer sky helped me remember that rain is not always a thief who comes to take the sun away. To some, it is a messenger bearing a reminder that Nature, maybe even God, does exist.

Paris after the storm.

The attitude and perspective with which we approach reality have the potential to empower or to sabotage, to enrich or to deprecate. Although we may not be able to self-determine where we are born, who our parents are, or what language we learn from birth, we can decide how we engage with the world around us and what we leave to others or seize for ourselves.

“People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are,” George Bernard Shaw said. “I don’t believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and if they can’t find them, make them.”

A raindrop can contain a challenge or an opportunity— so too can life. One need only decide whether to cringe at the mud or celebrate the miracle.

Lessons from Paris: On Privilege and Perspective

On the south end of rue de Rennes, one of Paris’s busiest shopping boulevards, the same middle-aged man sits everyday on the same span of sidewalk holding the same cardboard sign: J’ai faim. Aidez-moi s’il vous plaît. I am hungry. Please help me.

His face is round and tan, his eyes are dark and gentle. Scruff lines his jaw. Dirt covers his hands. He wears a black beanie on his head. He has been sitting near the Rennes-St. Placide bus stop every day for about a month now, and I pass him each morning as I walk to class. Up until a few days ago, our only interaction had been a small smile and a polite nod of the head—and a wink on his part—to kindly greet one another.

This routine suddenly changed at the beginning of this week, when the weather switched abruptly from winter to just-about-summer. It was the kind of day that demands a cute dress and sandals, and that’s exactly what I wore.

Practically skipping down rue de Rennes, I caught the man’s eye. But this time, instead of exchanging our usual greeting, he spoke to me. Ca va? he asked with a sly smile. Oui! Ca va, toi? I replied with the same hint of flirtatiousness. Our “how-you-doin” dialogue was ultimately harmless, but it broke the barrier between us and changed our relationship from formal to familiar.

Perhaps too familiar. Now that we were on speaking terms, I felt it would be nice to show this man the same politesse I show others, like my neighbors and the caretaker of my apartment building. Hence, when I passed him Friday morning, I smiled and asked, Vous allez bien? You’re doing well?

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head—non.

Seconds later I heard the following words ringing in my head like a fire alarm: Check your privilege.

The ability to respond to simple questions like “How are you?” or “Having a nice day?” with a positive answer is a privilege I have always taken for granted. So much so that I figured everybody is “alright,” “not bad,” or “great, thanks! How are you?” I didn’t stop to think about the fact that the man before me, pleading for something to satisfy his hunger, would answer with a resounding “no.” Now, for the first time in my life, I wish I could take that question back.

Poverty is omnipresent worldwide and omni-visible here in Paris. I wrote about the harsh reality of this city’s streets in this post at the beginning of the year. As I said then, Paris is no fairytale. But it is one heck of a classroom.

Here in Paris I’ve learned about not only the severity of poverty, but about the importance of relativity, too. It is only through recognizing the relativity of situations, issues and events that we can recognize our privilege and change how we interact with the world around us. This week I was reminded that although I may be a “poor” student, I am quite wealthy relative to the man who begs on my street, and extremely wealthy relative to the majority of the world’s population.

In fact, based solely on the income I receive from my academic scholarship each year, I am among the top 13 percent richest people in the world, according to this calculator. Perhaps if I calculated my status based upon my material wealth as opposed to my income, I would end up at a lower percentage (considering my “wealth” includes my laptop, my iPod, a vintage cracker-jack tin, The Great Gatsby and an “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” DVD set). Still, according to the site, it would take the average worker in Zimbabwe 11 years to earn what I receive in one. My monthly income could pay the monthly salaries of 52 doctors in Azerbaijan. That puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?

Next time you feel like griping, take a moment to consider not what you lack, but what you have, whether it be a roof over your head, a loving family, or an education. Take note of how your situation looks relative to that of others, and consider what you can do to share your wealth—material or abstract—with those who have less. What seems like poverty to you may be luxury for someone else. What appears in your eyes to be a tragedy may very well be another’s everyday experience.

Check your privilege. Use it meaningfully.

One day in April…

Stroll with me through the Luxembourg Gardens, on a Sunday afternoon, in April.

The trees are blooming,

the bees are buzzing from blossom to blossom to leaf.

Bracelets tied on branches to remind the careful eye of summer

waited the winter out and now they bounce in the breeze.

Boats bobble in the pond,

sailing to the shores of children’s springtime dreams.

Le Printemps, est-ce qu’il arrive? 

***

I snapped these photos on Sunday. The sun was shining and the people of Paris had come out of their winter hiding places to soak up the warmth. There was a hesitation in the air, as if we all wanted to tear off our coats and brush our bare toes against the grass, but no one dared because we were afraid to declare it Spring too hastily.

We may have kept our coats on this time. But they’ll be off soon.

Smiles and all the best,

Savannah

Samedi Sommaire 1.7: [insert Spring-themed cliché here]

Hello mes ami-e-s! Happy Saturday!

It’s the first weekend of April (!!!) and Spring is in the air, even here in still-chilly-and-dreary Paris. Spring means change and rejuvenation. It’s a time to look back on the New Year’s resolutions we forgot about, to clean out the drawers in our desks, to hang up the winter coats and pull out the windbreakers. It’s also a time to make new goals, to try new things and to seek new inspiration.

This first week of April, for me, has been exactly that. Here’s what the week has brought me:

Listening to: 

The Malian singer Rokia Traoré. My ears are happy.

Inspired by: 

That’s right—that’s Marilyn Monroe doing yoga. According to yoga scholar Eric Shaw, Marilyn was quite a yogini. Shaw has collected 21 photos of the movie star doing various asanas in the 1950s, long before yoga was a popular practice in the United States. Marilyn’s postures exude elegance and warmth, but they also display strength and discipline. Seeing her makes me want to bring the same grace and beauty to my own practice.

Thinking about: 

Youth, childhood and the vast differences between the lives of children all around the world. Over an 18-month period, Italian photographer Gabriele Galimberti photographed children from various parts of the world posing with their most prized possessions. Each image tells a different story and portrays a different way of growing up. The two photos above show a little girl from Botswana (top) and another from Italy (bottom). Quite a contrast.

I found this photography particularly thought-provoking because (1), I am the oldest out of two girls, and my sister and I have experienced vastly different childhoods, even though we were raised by the same set of parents, in the same town, with the same traditions and expectations; and (2) I’m currently a nounou, a nanny, for a 5-year-old girl. Spending time with her has made me reflect on what it means to be a kid, how kids see the world and how we lose our youthful spirit as we grow older.

Intrigued by:

Elaine Sciolino’s funny, flirty and fascinating book, La Seduction: How the French Play the Game of Life. A dear friend of mine (a seductive Française herself!) bought me this book, knowing I am intrigued by French culture and how the French live, act and react to and within their society. Did you know the French can take classes to learn how to talk in that low, husky tone they all seem to be born with? Did you know the word “seduction” isn’t just sexual, but can be used in political and commercial settings, too? As in, Jacques Chirac seduced the voters? Pick this book up. You’ll fall in love. 

Diving into:

Yoga’s sister science, Ayurveda. This philosophy, which translates as “knowledge of life,” is a system of healing that uses various diet and exercise practices to help balance individuals’ energies and dispositions to make them the best version of themselves. According to Ayurveda, there are three basic natures, or doshas, that manifest in different ways in different people. The three doshas are vada, pitta, kapha.

Discovering how I fit into this philosophy (I am without a doubt a kapha) has been absolutely enlightening and liberating. Understanding my body, my disposition and how I can bring out the best in myself through Ayurvedic practices brings me a huge feeling of empowerment. I’m looking forward to learning more about Ayurveda and incorporating it into my life!

What new discoveries have you made so far this spring? 

Love and light,

Savannah

Bloglovin’//Twitter//Facebook

The Deliberate Life: goal-setting and dream-seizing for a journey untethered

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” 

American poet Mary Oliver first posed that question in her poem “The Summer Day.” I stumbled upon it in this article on following your ambition and crafting your career. Oliver’s has been the question of the week, but I think to some extent it’s been the big question of the past seven months, too. What can I do to make this experience transformative and meaningful? What’s my next step? Where am I headed? 

I once thought I couldn’t answer those questions. I recently told my soon-to-be boss that my life is “totally up in the air.” This is true to the extent that I don’t know exactly which city I’ll end up in after college or whether I’ll be going to graduate school right away or not. All this aside, that statement is false: I know who I want to be, and I know what I want to do with my one wild and precious life.

I discovered this a few days ago, sitting atop my bulging wooden floor boards, surrounded by loose pieces of paper upon which I had sketched my past, my present and my future, asking myself Oliver’s haunting question. I even went a step further: What is the one thing you would do if money and security weren’t part of the equation?

That last question is one I’ve been avoiding for several years now. I’ve gone so far as to lie to myself about it, saying that if I could do anything in the world I’d write a novel. While this is something I wanted desperately to do as a teenager, it is not what I feel compelled to do now. And that is why none of the choices I’ve made in the past three to five years have set me on the path to becoming a best-selling novelist. That simply isn’t my calling.

So what is? Easy— I want to empower individuals, namely young women, to sit down in the driver’s seat of their destinies and steer themselves to the summit of their self-potential. I’ve wanted to do this ever since I was 16, when I started an organization to mentor girls in my hometown. Now, nearly 5 years later, this remains the most fulfilling and most inspiring experience I’ve had in my very long life of 20 years and 7 months. I’m itching to turn that high school achievement into a meaningful career.

S Club seniors, 2010, Prescott, Ariz. So nostalgic!

While I won’t spill all my plans here on the blog, I will say that I’ve thought about how I want to do this. My next steps include finishing my bachelor’s degree and becoming a certified yoga teacher. What comes after that has yet to be determined. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

And I’ll get there. In my life-evaluating session I had there on my floor, I happily discovered that the majority of the decisions I’ve made in the past five years have kept me on a path that will enable me to realize this dream. I am confident the next steps I take will keep me on my trajectory.

However, from here on out, I will prominently display that ambition at the forefront of my mind, like a sticky-note on the bathroom mirror reminding me to floss my teeth. I will strive to make choices that will enable me to live my one wild life to my fullest. A reckless life is an adventure; a deliberate life is a journey.

Arriving at this place of certainty and empowerment didn’t just happen. I had to think about it and put things down on paper. If you’re at a fork in the road, or if you’re at, I dunno, a rake, make some time in your crazy life to evaluate the choices you’ve made. Then examine how each option you have fits into your vision moving forward.

 Step 1: Follow Greg McKeown’s career evaluation method to better understand the path you’ve been on. Lay your career out on a graph, then plot the high points and low points, including certain projects you took part in, organizations you joined, big changes you made, etc. Connect the dots and look at when you were the most satisfied, and when that satisfaction was sustained or disrupted. (to see a detailed example of how to do this, follow the link above.)

Step 2: Separate these events into three groups: high points, middle points and low points. Next, recall each event and ask yourself what words you associate with that experience. For the high and middle points, ask yourself why you felt fulfilled. For the low points, ask yourself why you were unsatisfied.

Then, examining the events group by group, identify the words those events have in common. For example, the events in my “high points” category share the words “community,” “team work,” “self-direction” and “women and girls.” The most common words in your high and middle categories are your power words, the keys to your fulfillment.

Step 3: Look at your options and determine which among them will evoke your power words. Ask yourself how that experience, whether it be graduate school, starting a new job, or travelling to another country, will help you get from where you are to where you want to be.

Step 4: Set realistic goals for the next two years. Identify what you need to do in the semi-near future to get closer to manifesting your vision. My own goals include getting certified to teach yoga next summer and relaunching  The Desert Lamp. Remember to set reachable goals. Part of the motivation to continue toward your dream will come from the smaller achievements that help you get there.

Step 5:  Share your plans with those you trust to make them real. Feel free to share your dreams and goals here in the comments, too! I’d love to see what you have in mind, talk about goal-setting and dream-seizing, and help you through your own process.

So, tell me, untethered friends, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? 

Andiamo!

—Savannah