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Germany

Europe, soul searching, Uncategorized

Chasing Christmas

December 20, 2017 • By

It’s Christmas time. The streets are crowded with bumper to bumper traffic and stores swarm with frantic people, Starbucks offers eggnog and gingerbread lattes and red and green bows and decorations adorn entryways as fir trees fill homes and plazas everywhere. As Andy Williams says, “it’s the most wonderful time of the year. It’s the hap-happiest season of all…” but sometimes it seems like a busy and lonely time for people and we forget the significance of the season.

Fantasy Aisle, Nuremberg Gingerbread, only place where it can be called "real"

Nuremberg Gingerbread, only place where it can be called “real”

I discovered the Hallmark Channel’s Countdown to Christmas movies last fall when I was going through a difficult time personally and professionally. The movies deliver hope, promise, love and happy endings without violence, swearing, sex or drugs although the characters indulge in their share of wine. As I binge watched movie after movie for hours on end, my deepest desires came to the forefront and I was reminded of all the things missing from my life — no kids, no spouse, no cute little home with garland and the perfect Christmas tree shining through the front windows. I cried through the Christmas Blessing and Christmas with Holly and fantasized about the possibilities with a Princess for Christmas but realized I had my shot at moving to Buffalo years ago and much preferred the Palace at Castlebury. I sat on the edge of my seat with Christmas Incorporated only to roll my eyes through a Boyfriend for Christmas. Why couldn’t Douglas Firwood tell the truth?

Determined to work for the Hallmark Channel, I researched the company’s history and went so far as to Google every actor’s biography blurring the lines between reality and make believe. Most of Hallmark’s storylines revolve around a widow or career dominating women who must make an important decision during Christmastime. The characters are named Holly and Nick and scenes take place in New York or Chicago and quaint imaginary villages like Cookie Jar or in the mountains at Snow Valley Lodge. By a stroke of luck, a local do-gooder handsome man interacts with the desperate but dazzling attractive woman, steals her heart and the entire town rejoices in the Miracle of Christmas. The movies always end with a special kiss. What’s not to enjoy?

Fantasy Aisle, Friends at the Rockefeller Center Tree Lighting in NYC

Friends at the Rockefeller Center Tree Lighting in NYC

I wanted my own Christmas Miracle and I believed if I forced myself out into the world I could find it. The movie—my movie, Chasing Christmas would feature me as the lead actress, the successful career oriented woman who finds happiness and joy through Christmas. I kicked off my journey at the Rockefeller Center tree lighting ceremony in New York City with friends and then jumped on a plane to Germany where people celebrate the weeks leading up to Christmas with markets in the center of town or in front of iconic churches and museums.

Fantasy Aisle, The Medieval city of Rothenburg ob der Tauber

The medieval city of Rothenburg ob der Tauber

The Christkindlmarkts in Germany offer visitors handmade arts and crafts like glass ornaments or winter gloves and hats, Advent wreaths, gingerbread and other local delicacies like sauerkraut and glühwein (hot mulled wine). Each market embodies its personal story filling colorful wooden decorative stalls with food and gifts representing its history and traditions. I braved the winter elements and wandered my way around medieval towns, large cities and Hallmark worthy villages. The warm glühwein served in keepsake mugs warmed my heart and soul, the schneebälle, a snowball-shaped ball of chocolate filled my belly but the sounds of carolers and people laughing embraced me in a tender hug. I wanted hugs.

Fantasy Aisle, My first Glühwein in Rothenburg

My first Glühwein in Rothenburg

People venture to the markets to spend time with family and friends and the entire community comes together to observe annual rituals, enjoy food and drink specialties and to buy gifts. Couples hold hands and kiss, generations of families gather around hot chocolate and punch stands to talk and share stories. Tourists delight in trying Spätzle, a cheese and egg noodle dish for the first time and Eierpunsch, a thick spiked eggnog liquor. It is a time to believe in magic.

Fantasy Aisle, Checking our my families Christmas Market in Karlsruhe

Checking out my families Christmas Market in Karlsruhe

After visiting several markets, I joined my German cousins in Karlsruhe. My family proudly and lovingly showed me around their town square and we toasted the season with glühwein and Nutella crepes. We modeled Santa hats and took pictures smiling and laughing before the cold chased us away. There were fun conversations of politics and catching up on the children’s school and music activities. In Mannheim, I joined forces with my German-American friend Frank who showed me around his hometown forcing me to indulge in Kartoffelpuffer, a type of potato latke with applesauce. Frank provided all the translations I had missed and explained the significance of spices and sugar cookies. He also informed me that gingerbread is more for decoration than eating, which could have spared my teeth in Nuremberg. We also conquered the six markets in the Old Town of Heidelberg and hiked breathlessly to the castle gate before ending the night posing with several Santa impersonators. I met up with my dear friend Annette in her hometown of Flensburg, a picture perfect village on the Baltic Sea near the Danish border. They served hot Bailey’s and Grünkohl, a stewed kale and sausage dish unique to Flensburg. Annette and I celebrated our upcoming birthdays with a special dinner and vowed to make a habit of seeing each other somewhere in the world yearly. Lastly, I reunited with my adorable friend Corinna in Hamburg who ushered me from the train station to her apartment. We visited several of the city’s markets clinking glasses and spilling glühwein onto our gloves and coats while taking selfies and talking about life, love and travel. The City of Hamburg is bold and bright and buzzing with an electric energy.

Fantasy Aisle, Toasting the season in Flensburg, Germany

Toasting the season in Flensburg, Germany

The people of Germany are affectionate, spirited and disciplined. That is how I describe myself.   As I talked with Annette and Corinna about why I wanted to see the Christmas markets and why I had this urge to live a Hallmark movie they empathized with my mission. But the more I talked, the more I realized I don’t actually want to compare myself to “Holly and Nick” on television because I never wanted children. Most spouses cause grief at some time or another and if I really wanted a Christmas tree in my house I could pick one up on any street corner and cover its branches with a lifetime of collected ornaments. What I wanted and what I found in Germany was love—not the romantic kind but the fill my heart bring a smile to my face love. The early morning snowfall on the cobblestone streets of Rothenburg ob der Tauber, the surprise serenade by a musician in the Old City of Nuremberg, the rock hard gingerbread treat I nearly lost my tooth biting, the bond between Frank and his mother, the generosity and welcome hugs from my cousins, the conversations and shared experiences between friends who keep in contact despite time changes and long plane rides. This is the magic of Christmas. This is what allows people to be present in life. It’s the connection to people –contact with friends and family.

Fantasy Aisle, Celebrating Christmas with my friend Corinna in Hamburg

Celebrating Christmas with my friend Corinna in Hamburg

I still adore the Hallmark Channel and I am thankful for a Countdown to Christmas to remind me of the meaning of Christmas. It’s about coming to together, delivering hope and determination, experiencing love from the heart, family, tradition and even cookies, and angels.  It’s not about the shopping malls and gifts under the tree.

 


General travel, soul searching

Am I a nomad?

August 17, 2017 • By

Last fall a childhood friend called me a nomad, and I retorted, “No I am not, I just like to travel. That’s not me.”

It bothered me to be labeled a nomad. I consider myself a rooted individual not a wanderer.  I live in New York City and own a home in Chicago. I hop from my parents’ house in the Chicagoland suburbs to various dwellings across the globe. I may possess more travel size toiletries than the average person but my bags are not always packed. If I needed to get on a plane or train in a hurry, I could be out the door in 15 minutes, sweating en route, but looking pretty darn fabulous on the other end. That’s normal right?

The idea of a being a nomad rolled around in my head for months.

Am I someone who wanders?

Is it negative?

Why do I care?

This was part of a larger question for me.  Was this the life I wanted to be living?  Was this where I wanted to be in 20 years?  The answer: No.

I worked in government/politics for 18 years.  I am proud of my successes and my accomplishments. It was never dull and changed every day.  It fostered my caffeinated spirit and my thirst for knowledge.  The job changed every cycle.  I moved from city to city, from apartment to apartment.  I thrived on learning every aspect of a campaign and working with smart, driven people.  It was fun.  I traveled.  I met some of my closest friends.  I worked non-stop and when the job ended, I took a hiatus to travel, but then a cycle started again. The players changed but the game remained the same.

FantasyAisle

Christmas Market Nuremberg, Germany

After the 2016 election, I booked a flight to Germany to experience the Christmas markets. I drank Glühwein (mulled), visited with family and friends and walked every corner of the selected markets, but for the first time in my travels something had changed.  I was not present.  I took photos. I smiled. I talked to locals. I shopped for clothes.  I existed in Germany in body and spirit but my mind careened off course.

Fantasyaisle

Sydney Harbour Bridge

I tried again in Australia, my safe place and home away from home.  The coastal walks taunted me and the heat drained my energy.  There were days when I sat watching Netflix Hallmark movies rather than meeting new people.  Upset with myself, I resolved to find “fun.” I shopped (thank you Lorne Jane), devoured oysters, prawns on the barbie and fish and chips, and drank every glass of wine presented to me. Did I mention eat and drink?  I paid homage to the Sydney Bridge daily and I slowly started admitting that I needed to make a change in life.

When I returned to New York City after the New Year, I threw myself into work and politics but I ached for something different, a part of me dying.  I lacked the desire, drive and ambition to be the “old” me.  The fire in my belly dissipated.  I ignored my intuition at my mental and physical expense to make my clients happy. That is until February when a writing course in Montana shook me awake.

Snowshoe

Snowshoeing near Glacier National Park, Montana

In a little place called Whitefish, Montana, my love for travel returned.  My smile shined, the locals were kind and forgiving and I questioned everyone who would listen. The snow drifted from the sky in big chunks and I opened my mouth to capture a taste.  I spun around in dizzy circles like a figure skater on ice.  I conquered snowshoeing for the first time and laughed myself silly as I stomped along the trail like the Abominable Snowman.  A childlike state came over me.  The wheels were turning and I was thinking, thinking, thinking.

I attended Haven’s Writing Retreat with nine dynamic women eager to tell a story.  The pages turned for some but mine were blank. I fought anger, sadness and nothingness.  I didn’t belong there and I wanted to go home.  Where was home?  I didn’t know anymore.  At times, my voice and my pen took me to the Sydney Bridge, my happy place or chasing the past with friends but most of the time it landed on unexplored destinations where daydreams become reality.

One night, I stepped outside into Montana’s “Big Sky” blanketed with twinkling stars.  I stared at the infinite darkness–alone. The air was cold and fresh, the silence calming. I stood entranced. Sadness existed deep inside me.

That night I wrote.  The words flowed from my pen to the notebook like water released from a dam. My mind raced with thoughts about my job, dating life, my parents, brother, a friend. I wrote for eight hours and when my arm cramped and I pushed away the tears, I fell asleep.  I awoke a new person.

“I am done with politics,” I thought. “This is going to be complicated.”

And it was in the quiet moment of a late February morning that I embraced the true definition of a nomad. I enjoy roaming from place to place aimlessly. It’s my passion to discover new people and places. I study travel guide books for fun and attend travel shows to meet the experts I aspire to be. My path is not the path of my friends and family or even my colleagues but it fosters my creativity, my passion and my desire to be out there in the world.

The decision to leave my business and livelihood is not easy and I entertained many flattering offers before cutting the cord. It’s hard to say goodbye and lots of people tried to convince me I was crazy.  People whom I adore and respect. It’s scary to jump off the edge of the cliff not knowing what’s below. My prior attempts at leaving left me dangling for years in no mans land but this time I chose to listen to my gut and leap with my heart. My mind is still processing.

I hope you will join me on my nomadic journey.

My future posts promise to be funny and entertaining and will delve into travel, soul searching, job exploration, rants and for my parents’ sake maybe even love.

Fantasyaisle

Learning horse therapy from Bobbi Hall at Stillwater Horse Whispers Ranch