Sanctuary & Fantastic Sandwiches

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Hello.

I’ve been quiet for a while, not because I’m at a loss for words–rather, I’ve been purposely choosing not to add to the noise in the world. And, well– I also needed more fantastic sandwiches in my life. Let me explain.

Upon return to the U.S. last year, I hit the ground running with a slew of speaking engagements, leadership seminars, and podcasts, then met a bucket list milestone of becoming a best-selling author while sorting through a basement full of storage boxes we hadn’t seen in a decade. Once our overseas shipment was settled, we fostered a Great Pyrenees to further cultivate home and build community, and I got caught up in the spin cycle of busyness as teen and dog mom, wife, and entrepreneur. And frankly? I became as tired and uninspired as a soggy sandwich.

Nothing was wrong that I could pinpoint–I’m in good health and blessed with an amazing husband and son. Admittedly, living in the DC area under this administration has been trying, and our third-culture son was navigating a rocky transition into 8th grade as a kid who looks American, but doesn’t culturally feel like one. (For example, Ramsay crushed his test on European and Asian Geography, but was unsure about the location of Kansas). There are frequent “American” discoveries for him, like when I ran the garbage disposal and he tore down the stairs, yelling, “Mom! What’s wrong? What was that?!” (Raised overseas, he’d never heard one). Like most foreign service kids, he continues to overcome, adapt, and persevere, and we couldn’t be prouder.

Overall, things were falling into place, so, why the soggy sandwich feeling? Perhaps it was midlife creeping in, or my nervous system resetting after years of being in survival mode overseas, but I knew intuitively that whatever it was, I needed to honor a season of slowing down to refuel the energy reserves and coffers of inspiration.

Have you ever moved through your days on auto-pilot until something spurs the desire for more oomph, more wow factor–more “fantastic sandwiches” in your life? I don’t mean a mediocre deli sandwich, but a finger-licking good sandwich that is deeply satisfying with the bread toasted just right, a thin slice of unblemished avocado, crisp lettuce, perfectly grilled protein, and a dressing that sings…the kind of sandwich that makes you say the word delicious out loud even if no one else is around.

As anthropologist Zora Neal Hurston said, “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” I had more questions than answers and I wanted to stop, sit quietly, and assess to see what clues the universe had in store for me. Like an off-season hibernation, I spent late spring and summer retreating and turning inward whenever possible, creating sanctuary (both mentally and inside our home) through walks beneath towering trees, creating cozy recipes, practicing yoga, devouring library books (most recently, Frederik Backman’s “My Friends”), collaging with mixed-media art supplies, and journaling.

When school released last summer, Ramsay and I went road-tripping 1980’s style (Brad flew in to meet us when he could) and had a blast, soaking up sunshine, swimming, and moving through our days at a slower pace. Highlights were traditional camps, time with Mama, family, and friends, and an Atlanta Braves Game on the 4th with incredible fireworks. Also, we sought out folk art galleries, took surf lessons, stopped on a whim to take photographs, and discovered new places, like Lake Chatuge, where we fished with glowing night crawlers then witnessed a full, red moon rise over the water.

The week before High School, Rams wrapped up a basketball camp and asked to visit to NYC to see Hamilton and friends living there, so we made a last-minute trip on Amtrak.

Turns out, sometimes, we just need to give ourselves permission to take a break and recalibrate. (Why is that so challenging for some of us)? No one can operate long-term on full-tilt. As my friend Shari says, “In mid-life, like a pilot tweaking the dials in the cockpit, we just need to listen and adjust as needed,” and wisely, “how you start your morning sets the tone for your days.”

After a fun summer with plenty of introspection and rest (and a full medical physical), there were no big revelations––I just needed more self-care and mindfulness, starting with a better morning routine. I now wake up and stretch before reaching for my phone and drink hot tea with two hands–not while multi-tasking– but sitting quietly with intention, even if for just a few minutes. I am also making more careful choices about the food and information I’m consuming, which has made a positive, impactful difference in my body and mind.

Now, with autumn afternoons marked by crisp blue skies and gold and garnet-tinged trees whose leaves whisper to the ground, we await the announcement of our next country assignment. In the interim, I’m working on my fiction novel, making more fantastic sandwiches, and sipping hot tea before strategizing about what’s next. Stayed tuned!

Do you give yourself permission to rest? I’d love to hear about what kind of “fantastic sandwich” moments you factor into your life to bring you joy. Please comment below.

Peace & Light,

Tracy

Renewal & the Precipice of Spring

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The Greek philosopher Heraclitus declared, “the only constant in life is change,” a motto we take to heart in our fluctuating Foreign Service lifestyle. After years overseas, repatriation has been easier than expected with the safety and accessibility of day-to-day conveniences, yet it’s also more transactional with the self-checkouts, contactless deliveries, and services that are same-day or even instant.

I yearn for the personal connections– and speaking foreign languages– with the roadside merchants, farmers, and artisans who enriched our daily lives overseas. And, I daresay, I miss the art of problem-solving, a required skill abroad. It’s amazing what you can creatively fashion out of recycled items when you can’t go out and buy them. Now, I can just pop to the store (or the internet) with choices galore (and if it’s food, it might even be efficiently pre-washed, pre-cut, and pre-packaged, saving serious prep time).

One thing the U.S. consistently delivers on is its vast array of opportunities. Brad has been handling global security programs behind the scenes at the State Dept., and Ramsay has adapted well to 8th grade, taking a lead role in his school play, receiving a merit medal in a photography contest, and winning a basketball championship with his team.

When we returned stateside this summer, I had high hopes of generating income during our two-year assignment; however, finding meaningful work as a federal government contractor in these trying times has been a bit… demoralizing. So, I’ve pivoted to focus more on public speaking engagements and writing endeavors. I’m happy to report that I’ve achieved a few personal milestones–speaking at women’s conferences, being on podcasts, making the TEDx finals, and having a chapter published in a bestselling non-fiction anthology, Femme Led: Hard-earned Lessons in Women’s Leadership.

In mid-December, we welcomed our long-awaited cargo shipment from West Africa, which contained cozy coats, decorations, and needed cookware just in time for the holidays. We unboxed in record time, unearthing the comforts and treasures that make our house a home. Stockings were hung at the same time as the wall art, and we made a family outing to choose a Christmas tree for the first time in 12 years.

This winter, after more than a decade in tropical climates, our bodies are struggling to adapt to D.C.’s record-breaking low temperatures and snow. Our anticipation stirs, however, with the signs of spring whispering its arrival. The “snow-crete” mounds have melted, and like an overnight magic trick, Daffodils and Crocuses have pushed up through the brown leaves, stretching skyward to breathe color into the bleak landscape.

On the precipice of spring, after months of soul gardening indoors (devouring books from the public library, goal-planning, watching movies, playing board games, creating art, stories, and recipes), we sense an awakening– out come the joggers, children twirling down sidewalks, and the return of cyclists whirring past. Leaves unfurl from branches, and buds burst forth in frosting pink blossoms, as if Mother Nature is donning her party dress.

Smiling, we shed our boots and socks, exposing our bare skin to the warm sunlight that scatters prisms across the porch. Clouds glide by swiftly, reminding us that time is precious. I climb into our hammock and close my eyes, daydreaming about what’s next.

May your days be full of flowers. What will you be wishing for this spring?

Love & Light,

-Tracy

The Shifting Shores of Foreign Service Life

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After twelve years overseas (in Swaziland, Egypt, Honduras, and Gabon), it was a bittersweet farewell at the Ambassador’s residence; our last diplomatic dinner for a while.

I was grateful Ramsay was home from boarding school to hear the wonderful accolades his Dad received at dinner. And, after enduring a long year and a half apart, our family would resume a life together in Arlington, Virginia, our new post for the next two years.

On our PCS (Permanent Change of Station) trip from Gabon to the States, Brad, Ramsay, and I stopped briefly in the south of France, where Rams (now 13) was enthralled with the stylish sports cars. We savored ice cream cones on the Croisette, rode a Ferris Wheel, went tubing in the Bay of Cannes, visited the famous film festival red carpet at the Palais des Congrès, and lingered over flaky pastries in cafes. And, no longer on call after more than a decade of running security, Brad began to shed work stress.

After years of being outside of America on the Fourth of July, this year felt particularly patriotic. We visited Mama in Georgia, where blossoming magnolias were still in bloom and songbirds flit through her garden. We ate ripe peaches and watermelon, enjoyed cocktails on the front porch, played gin rummy, and lit fireworks in the driveway.

Our stateside summer flew by with a lot of fun. Hovering like a shadow in the background, however, were the logistical issues tied to our international move that needed to be resolved. They quietly pressed in on us like a ticking clock: rental property bidding wars, the search for an affordable used car, and navigating school registration without an address. In the midst of it all, I was applying to jobs, prepping for interviews, and received news that I’d been selected as a semi-finalist for an upcoming TEDx event. So, I walked in loops around the park in the evenings, practicing and memorizing my speech.

It felt like a lot was happening at once, but that’s how we operate: one step forward at a time, slotting the puzzle pieces together as we tear down and rebuild our life in a new country every few years. My friend, Shari, a military spouse who gets the lifestyle, cheered me on. “I love how it’s messy, Tracy, but you’re doing it all anyway!”

Slowly, plans fell into place. We signed a rental agreement for a property we’d only seen in a video, registered for school, and Brad turned on utilities in Virginia via phone from a Florida dealership while I negotiated for a car.

Before our road trip to DC, we booked four days in the U.S. Virgin Islands at a rustic beach hotel in St. Croix. (After living in places without clean beaches and clear water, we did not take those for granted).

Unplugging was a balm for our souls. We woke to light dancing across the sea, in which swam for hours, and the only sounds were the birds, the crackle of the coral reef, and lull of the waves.

As if in a dream, we snorkeled in shoals of anchovies, glinting silver and green, and floated through swirling schools of blue tang. One magical morning, Rams and I followed a graceful sea turtle gliding across the sea floor through shafts of light.

We savored coffee and wine (well, pineapple juice for Rams) on the beach while gazing at the horizon with our toes in the sand, and fell asleep with sun-kissed cheeks, spent and peaceful.

Upon arrival in Virginia, Brad and Ramsay picked up our rental keys while I pitched my TEDx talk, Building Stability Amidst Instability (made it to the finals in February 26)! Our air shipment with a few goods and clothes arrived. Our shipment from Africa has not yet arrived; however, as a workaround, we rented a U-Haul to pick up used furniture from Facebook Marketplace.

We reconnected with old friends in the area, and serendipity led us to foster an 8-month-old rescue puppy- a sweet, fluffy Golden Retriever and Pyrenees mix, whom we just adopted. It’s sooner than I was ready to expand our family, but we love Luna already.

Welcoming neighbors on our tree-lined street have shown up with homemade cookies, a broom, and a vacuum for us to borrow. Ramsay can walk to 8th grade from home, play basketball outside after dark, and bike to a nearby pizza place with new friends: rare freedoms for this third-culture kid raised in hardship countries without sidewalks and behind high walls with armed guards.

Reflecting on our time in West Africa, I do feel nostalgia for friends left behind in Gabon. I especially miss the dramatic storms and how the Kingfishers swooped and dove in the breezes preceding rains so heavy, they blurred the water’s horizon. And on brighter days, how a watercolor palette of peaches and reds at sunset bloomed across a wide expanse of sky.

As we shift into Autumn- our first change of seasons in ages- we feel content to have successfully navigated the maze of logistics it took to get us here. The view from our front porch is peaceful. We watch squirrels forage for acorns under cornflower skies and leaves flutter down to the sidewalk in shades of deeply-steeped tea, crimson and copper. We’re anticipating pumpkins, Fall Festivals, and trick-or-treating this Halloween. The cooler weather sweeping in calls for candles, warm drinks, cozy blankets, and a good book to delve into.

For now, we’re glamping inside our rental house until the cargo shipment of household effects arrives, but until then, we’re just grateful to be here, together. There’s more work to do to make it a home, but we’ve learned that the growing of roots, routines, and community takes patience and will happen organically.

When that guest bed finally arrives, we want visitors! In the meantime, cheers to a flourishing fall,
-Tracy