Category Archives: Savoring the Moment

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

Seeking Joy in the Liminal Spaces

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Lately, I’ve found delight in the unpredictable, in-between moments of life. Like a crack allowing light to seep into a dark room, there’s a fleeting, intangible something that happens to turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. I’d just returned to Gabon days earlier when my husband Brad mentioned he’d bought tickets to the Masquerade Ball on Friday night. “We can donate them if you’re too jet-lagged?” I shook my head. “I’d love to go.”

The ball was just as fun as I’d anticipated- a festive evening of mask-wearing, dancing, laughing with friends, and good food. But what left an impression afterward wasn’t the main event. It was a brief connection with a Bwiti man who wore spiritual makeup and played a small stringed instrument as the guests arrived. The words in his tribal song were incomprehensible to me, yet I was transfixed. His music momentarily transported me somewhere akin to that liminal space between dreaming and waking. That, I had not anticipated.

Looking back over our family photos of an enjoyable, action-packed summer, the most noteworthy memories were the ones unplanned and unexpected. Enthusiastic to share my love of London with my son on his first trip there, I packed in the tourist activities Ramsay had requested for our long weekend, to include fish and chips in a real pub and rides on the Tube, the London Eye, and a double-decker bus. We crossed bridges over the Thames on foot, explored the Tower of London’s jewels, torture chamber, and raven-crested turrets, and ogled the toys and food halls of Harrods (where he selected a piece of chocolate cake the size of a man’s shoe, which in the end, we couldn’t entirely devour).

Ultimately, however, our trip to London wasn’t defined by the main attractions. I shared my favorite paintings at the Courtauld Gallery with Ramsay, where we admired “The Angler,” by Seurat. (Rams loves fishing). But it was the stunning spiral staircase that captured him most, along with the man blowing enormous, playful bubbles outside of the Tate Modern that we talked about later.

On the HMS Belfast war ship, I’d expected Ramsay to fawn over the mechanics. Rather, what stood out was an interaction with a volunteer who demonstrated Ramsay’s name in Morse code using dots and dashes. Notable that day, too, were other amazing occurrences, none of which were on the itinerary: Ramsay’s penchant for smoky Earl Grey tea (a new discovery), meeting our friend’s dogs, Itchy and Scratchy, spotting rare sports cars in Knightsbridge, and being gifted a coveted Manchester United soccer ball.

On a separate journey to the south of France, Brad and I marveled at the spectacular architecture of the Mucem in Marseilles and indulged in our first Michelin-starred restaurant, Prieure, in Avignon, which was everything we’d hoped for. But it was the stunning fields of poppies, a surprising parade of sheep in Provence, and the pretty shadows cast by the Plane trees arching over the road that we talk about most- the “asides” of our trip.

And after settling in back in Libreville, we were elated at the first passion fruit growing on the vine Ramsay planted months ago- one of those bits of magic in the before-and-afters that lingers.

May you seek joy, too, in the liminal spaces,

With love, Tracy