Welcome Fairy Tale Life Blog Community!

I've got some news.

I'm bringing my creativity coaching and blogging from my website FairyTaleLifeCoaching.com to Packing Lust. I'm combining both blogs so that I can keep all my work here, under one website. That means the Fairy Tale Life community is joining us here at Packing Lust.

Welcome!

To the talented artists and creatives who read the Fairy Tale Life blog, I'm so glad to have you here. I've moved most of the content from Fairy Tale Life over here to Packing Lust. (Click the "creativity" link in the menu above to see those posts.)

Sadly, the one thing I can't move is your wonderful comments. So, I'd like to take this chance to thank each of you by name who took the time to comment on a post at Fairy Tale Life Coaching. I hope you find continued inspiration + magic here at Packing Lust.

Thank you to:

SarahJH, Artist

Ursula, the Crafting Gypsy + Magic Button Maker

Natalie, Writer at All I Am Deciding

Vivian Mandala, Designer

Calli, Photographer

Maria, Writer, Queen of the Prairies, + Brainstormer

The Trog, Writer + Spoken Word Performer

Dan Kenny, Coach

Thanks so much.

I'm grateful for your support of Fairy Tale Life Coaching, and thankful for your support of Packing Lust (most of you are here already). To ALL who read Fairy Tale Life,  I hope Packing Lust can be a place of fun, inspiration, and magic for you.

Warmly + Sparklingly,

10 Things to Know About Italy

I was a little worried about feeling lonely over the holidays, especially because we were planning to go to Italy, just the two of us. I wasn't that worried, because I knew it would be lovely to spend time alone with Prince Charming in one of the most romantic places in the world. I mean, Italy for Christmas? Yes, please. On the other hand, Italy for Christmas? Would all the Italian families be feasting with their massive extended families (and thus not around to open the museums or run the restaurants)? Would two feel like too small a group? Well, yes, and no, respectively. Here's why Italy for the holidays is still a good idea, despite most of the Italians being on holiday themselves, along with 9 other things you might want to know about spending your Christmas and New Year in Italy.

Rome-Antics

1. The streets are still filled with people.

Indeed, most of the Italians were no where to be found. However, we found that the streets were still filled with people, providing a joyful camaraderie.

On Christmas day, we took a six-hour walk around Rome, keeping in mind that very few actual museums or sights would be open. Our goal was to hit the major photo opportunities that were (or could be) outdoors, like the Pantheon, the Spanish Steps, and Trevi Fountain. It was fun to be with the crowds of people, and romantic to not have any obligations on Christmas day other than to enjoy our time together.

Piazza di Trevi was alive with people. Pulsing with camera flashes. Everywhere we looked, we saw someone waving us out of the way so that they could take a photo of someone behind us.  Overwhelmed, we got out of the virtual mosh pit that was the steps and space in front of the fountain. After catching our  breath and a regroup, we dove back in, trading photos with another couple. Then we got out. There were tourists from all over the world. In this photo, you can see the range of headgear from Santa hat to beanie to hijab, reflecting the amazing diversity of the crowd.

 2. Foodies beware.

Maybe it's merely a testament to how much Prince Charming spoils me with his culinary skills, but I wasn't as impressed with the food in Italy as I was on previous trips. I am extremely spoiled when it comes to food. I also have very specific standards when it comes to restaurant service, standards born out of growing up with Southern hospitality, living in casual and friendly California,  and being friends with a chef-caterer who would pray and send good vibes into the food as she was preparing it. So basically, food is everything: a feeling of welcome, an invitation to friendship, and a spiritual experience.

Food Should Not Equal Stress

Sadly, over the holidays in Italy, even choosing a restaurant felt anxiety-inducing. Once we did, we encountered stressed-out hosts, unimaginative fare, and servers who on more than one occasion, simply forgot to bring us what we ordered.  And this happened despite researching restaurants, looking up reviews, and asking for recommendations. Arguably, our best food experiences were when we assembled our own picnic meals from piazza markets or from places like this butcher shop. And then there was the stellar gelato recommendation from our tour guide, Max. He said that we'd be tempted to settle for lesser gelato because shops popped up all around Giolitti to skim off tourists who wouldn't wait in line. But we waited and were rewarded. And of course, the coffee was astrologically good. 3. AirBnB rocks. If you haven't gone for it yet, go for it! Pay to stay in a stranger's house. This is not just for the money you can save, but for the richness of the experience. When you stay on someone's home, you get to experience how a local lives, day to day. And when else can you get away with snooping around in someone's bathroom cabinet? Hotels can be fun, but eventually they all start to feel the same.  With AirBnb, we could afford to stay in a prime location in Trastevere, just a stroll away from everywhere noteworthy in Rome, and a few blocks from the Tiber River.

And our rooftop view was practically cinematic.

Finally, the clock on the wall helped us relax -- and showed that the owner of our apartment had a Mediterranean sense of time.

 4. Go ahead and dork out.

I'm not sure how to segway (groan) into this one, so I'll just say it: Go for it! Last time I was exploring a big city, and my feet hurt, I saw these people dorkily zooming by on Segways. I looked at them with skepticism laced with envy. And internally mocked them.  But a Segway tour is as fun as your inner child thinks it will be.  Or more fun. A Segway tour of Ancient Rome was part of Prince Charming's birthday present, but we enjoyed it equally. It's a bit pricey at 75 Euros a person, but WORTH EVERY CENT!

 Florence

5.  Florence has the world's best window shopping.

That is, if you like colorfully bizarre and offbeat displays, which I do.  You go to Italy hungry for aesthetic marvels (and pasta) and you quickly get tired of beautiful ancient architecture. So in Florence, you hope to be surprised by new art, even after all this time. After all, Florence was the birthplace of the Renaissance.  Maybe it's still happening, you hopefully think. Or at least I did, and wasn't disappointed when on our first evening stroll, we were beckoned into a art gallery that had some surprising works by a modern artist on display. It felt like a magical moment to duck into a gallery where we were the only two people enjoying the art, while outside the windows the Arno river sparkled in the night.

But then just down the road we found out where all the out-of-work artists are employed. Some of the storefront displays were wildly creative, including a Christmas tree made from toilet-paper wrapped Barbie dolls, a flamingo wearing a necktie, and this beautiful red ballgown, that upon closer inspection, is actually bedding.

6. Museums are stressful.

I have no idea how Prince Charming got this picture that makes me look alone with the Birth of Venus. The reason I'm looking so thrilled in it is because a) I'm afraid we are about to get caught using a camera (even sans flash) and b) I'm being jostled on every side by invisible hordes of exhausted and grumpy tourists.

I'm not sure if the crowds have gotten worse since I was last in Italy or the holiday numbers combined with the limited opening hours clusterf*cked things up.  At Florence's Uffizi Galleries, we stumbled along with the waves of sweaty masses that trudged through each gallery. Museum workers had lost that "I'm-working-with-the-world's-greatest-art" sparkle in their eyes days ago. Perhaps years ago. Yuck.

Breaking the "Rules"

Oh, and also, I'd like to tell you that Prince Charming and I are officially "the reason Americans are hated" all over the world, as stated by another American tourist who seemed to pop up nearby us throughout our visit to the museum. We may have deserved her ire. You see, we know something that the other polite American, British, and Asian tourists in the line didn't know: Italians don't queue. There's no sanctity of place in line. Rather, it is respected to push yourself through the crowd where you need to go. Spain was like this to, and Israel and Palestine are similar. I'll never forget attending Mass in Spain and at the end, suddenly it's a holy mob shuffle to get up to Communion.  It must be a Mediterranean thing.

No-No

So anyway, we knew that the Italians running the museum were probably laughing at the tourists standing in line. And they had sold us an appointment ticket to get in at 4:30. It was 4:30. The museum closed at 6.  Other people in line had been standing there for an hour after their appointment to get in. We could go to the back, and get into the museum 15 minutes before closing, while watching the savvier travelers cut in line while our stress levels soarded, or we could cut. So yes, we cut in line. And we did it right in front of the official. He didn't care. In fact, he allowed us in, right after the Italian guy that cut in front of us.  Still, despite doing something culturally approved in Italy, I felt bad for doing what I knew was a no-no in my own culture.

7. You may not want to get medical care here.

File this one under the sadly hilarious. Or hilariously sad. I'm not sure which one. Not only is this Italian health care worker smoking, but he's smoking in his ambulance. This was the first thing I saw as I emerged from Florence's central train station, and it tickled me. Do you think that he'll keep smoking as he speeds through the streets on the way to an emergency? Or will he throw the cigarette out his window? Or will he take the time to get out, stub it out, and throw it away safely, all while precious seconds on the clock tick away? Do you think the cigarette smoke will bother the patient in the back, possibly struggling to breathe what could be his or her last breath? Like the line thing, what he's doing is a cultural no-no in the U.S., and probably totally fine in Italy.

8. Pisa is a fun day trip.

Just a pleasant hour and change train ride from Florence,

Pisa was a decision we left until the last minute. We almost didn't go, because there is so much to see in Florence. And we knew that Pisa was simply a glorified photo op. Yet, we couldn't resist taking photos with the world famous icon, La Torre Pendente. The Leaning Tower of Pisa has become a symbol of travel, right up there with the airplane and the globe. It may surpass the Eiffel tour in its fame. It was exciting to be there, to see that it really does lean, and to take all the silly pictures that we swore we wouldn't take. Plus the weather was  beautiful. After our photo shoot, we enjoyed sitting down for pizza. Less for the pizza and more for the location. After the host sat us, I looked up and saw that the Torre Pendente was in full view. "Really?" I said. "Really" the waiter replied, without missing a beat. Really.

Venice

9. How to escape the snobbery of Venice.

If familiarity breeds contempt, I understand why Venetians seem to hate tourists.  Venice is overrun, but that doesn't lessen the beauty and romance of Venice. I recommend a gondola ride on the Grande Canal. New Year's Eve in Venice was crowded, Bellini-guzzling fun. Followed by fireworks.

To escape the snobbery of the areas around the Grande Canal and San Marco Square, I recommend a trip out to Lido Beach, another island of Venice that we accessed by water taxi.

Ibernisti Club

There's a small club of crazies called the Ibernisti (it means hibernators) who bond over a daily dip in the frigid waters of the Adriatic Sea every winter day. On New Years, the tradition attracts bigger crowds, with families coming out to see the crazy swimmers start off a New Year in style. You know, with pain. A lot of pain. Followed by a lot of adrenaline.

Can I Join?

I had been telling everyone that I was going to do this - swim with the Ibernisti on New Year's in Venice. So I had to. And I wanted to. Because I had to. And I wanted to. Sort of. It was cold! Just moments before noon, when the first dip of 2014 was scheduled to take place, I couldn't see anyone in their swimwear. I had to join the group! Where was everyone getting ready? Finally, I saw a man in a red swimsuit duck out of a tent. I ran up to him, gesticulating wildly that I would like to swim with the Ibernisti. He smiled broadly, clapped an arm around my shoulder, and ushered me into the tent, where about a dozen men appeared to be hurriedly changing clothes. "Non guardere!" my guide said brightly to the other men. Don't watch her dress. Fortunately, I had my swimwear on under my clothes, so there was no need for nudity. And don't worry, the only Italian sausage I saw that day was the one they served us with lentils after our swim. We charged out into the water, decorated with red and white balloons. There appeared to be subgroups of the Ibernisti club, for example, one group of women all wore necklaces made of white ribbon. I quickly made friends, as one does when wondering exactly how far into the water qualifies as "swimming," when it's so cold. The answer? Up to your neck, but not past your ears because the frigid water can hurt your ears badly if you don't have a swim cap to cover them. After a respectable amount of time in the water, we emerged, took a hurried group photo, and ran through the now-warm air to dress. Afterwards, a band played Beach Music. Songs like "Sitting on the dock of the Bay," seemed out of place for Venice, but oddly fitting, and added to the warm, small-town cameraderie at Lido Beach. I made balloon animals for the kids, which was really the first time I'd been able to successfully do that in Italy. Italians and tourists become suspicious when you try to give them anything, because the M.O. of the gypsies and street salespeople is to "give" you something and then demand payment or donation in return. By the time I had gotten comfortable making balloon animals for the kids around me, we felt pleasantly far from the snobbery of Venice, and far from the tourist scenes throughout the big cities in Italy.

Milan

10. Milan is good for a Last Supper.

I'd been to Milan before, and it was raining. Guess what? It was raining this time too. We knew industrial, urban, rainy Milan wouldn't be our favorite city, and only planned to spend one day there. We wanted to see da Vinci's The Last Supper. You have to buy tickets in advance to see the famous quasi-fresco.  It's one of those things where the museum sells tickets for an affordable price, and as soon as they go on sale, tourist agencies buy them all up and resell them at triple the price. When we arrived for our appointment, the museum was telling disappointed visitors that the tickets were sold out for several months.  Yet we were able to buy them just a few days before our visit from an agency. If you want to pay the cheaper price, make sure you buy the tickets several months or more in advance. The Last Supper was more faded and in worse shape than I thought it would be, but still worth seeing. I appreciated that they let small groups in so that the space wasn't crowded. They also provided a docent who explained details for us about the painting. They didn't let us take photos in the refectory itself, but we got this one of Prince Charming with a replica just to capture the memory of being there. Milan was good for our own personal last supper as well. Finally tired of pasta, we went to a sushi restaurant, and also a sort of bakery-salad place with communal tables. Both delicious.

Your Turn

Have you been or are you planning to go to Italy over the holidays? Comment below on your experience and let us know if you have any questions.

3 Powerful Rituals to Stretch Your Spirit

I've been meditating daily. Sometimes I feel twitchy. Sometimes I get sleepy. Sometimes I feel completely unable to sit still, and just be. But I’m proud to say I’ve been sitting down (or sometimes lying down – that’s ok, right?) for meditation for 15-30 minutes almost every day this month.

Soggy Cement vs. Hard Cement

January traditionally is a month for focusing on new habits, or rituals, and Stretching Your Spirit was my habit of choice to zero in on this month. It’s one of the 12 Rituals that I've written about before.

If you want to focus on Stretching Your Spirit, then plan to practice a new ritual for 30 days. Some studies say that 21 days is all you need to cement a habit, but I find that my cement is still a bit soggy after only three weeks. I need a full month to make something a firm habit. I suspect this time varies from person to person. Experiment to discover how many days it takes before you do something on autopilot. You’ll know it’s a habit when you get a “something’s missing” feeling if you don’t do it, or if you find yourself doing it without realizing it.

Here are 3 rituals I have personally found to be amazing for stretching the spirit.

1. Meditation: a Sacred Stillness

The essence of meditation is presence. We make ourselves comfortable, and then tune in to what’s going on inside.  Slowly, we let the brain-chatter die down, and we focus on our breath. Some find it helps to focus on a mantra, one word or phrase that calms the mind and gives it focus. When thoughts bubble up, as they often do, we let them pass without holding on. Without analysis. We return to our breath or our mantra.  One of my favorite meditation resources has been the Oprah Chopra 21-Day Meditation Challenges provided by the Chopra Center for free from time to time.

2. When the Spirit Moves the Body

Spirituality and movement go well together. Yoga helps calm the mind while stretching the body. The combination of a calm mind and a sense of well-being in the body can bring joy, a fact evidenced by the massive and ongoing popularity of the Yoga movement.  It’s global.  There’s a popular yoga center where I live in the developing country of Palestine. Another kind of moving meditation is one that I learned in Los Angeles: feminine movement. To learn more, I recommend taking a class in feminine movement, such as a belly dancing class or a sensual movement class. A moving meditation is a highly personal meditation often done alone. It can take the form of dance, Tai Chi, stretching, prayer or yoga. It’s an outward expression of an inward emotion: a desire to connect with the divine. You can witness a moving meditation in the way that Catholics stand up, sit down, and kneel during a celebration of Mass. You can also see moving meditation in the way that Muslims pray.  The spirit moves the body, and the body moves the spirit.

3. a Powerful Partnership

While our friendships can certainly be a source of spiritual growth for us , setting an intention with one friend to pray for him or her can help us grow spiritually more than leaving things to chance. When two people mindfully share their desires, struggles, and intentions, and commit to praying for each other, amazing things can happen.  Knowing someone is on your side, sending love to God on your behalf is incredible, and praying for someone else keeps us focused on what’s important. I have most valued my prayer partner when in the middle of making important life decisions. When looking for a prayer partner, seek someone who is nonjudgmental, optimistic, kind, and honest.

What do you think?

I hope these three rituals inspired you or gave you a new idea about how you’d like to stretch your spirit! Please comment below and share with us what top three rituals you have find most helpful for your spiritual growth.

Yours,

[Photo credit: blinkingidiot via photopin cc]

2013 in Review

A month into 2014, and I've finally found space to look back at the last year on Packing Lust and review 2013. 2013 was the first full year of this blog's existence, since I started it in the summer of 2012.

2013 started out with visiting family on the East Coast, where planning for my mom's Cruzbike Race Across America (then 6 months away) to race 3000 miles for the cure for brain cancer was in full swing.

Down in beautiful and sunny Florida, I visited with my aunt and uncle, Trog, and Grammy.

In the meantime, Prince Charming was struggling through a very snowy week back in Ramallah.

In March, we left our new-but-problematic-and-far-flung apartment and moved into a fixer-upper, near the city center.  Along with our new home came a bunch of new friends we are thankful for. We tried not to offend our neighbors.

It was a Spring of enjoying both Palestine and Israel, with trips to Jaffa and Herzeliya beach, where a bulldozer almost ruined our day.

In May, I officially unveiled Prince Charming's handsome face. For now, we are still keeping his real name off the blog. Our marriage turned one in April.

Also in May sometime, we took a trip to Amman and Petra, Jordan. I blogged it, then lost that post. Eventually I re-blogged what I could remember. [Update: that re-blogged post is here.]

In June, my mom won the Race Across America, and I was there crewing from California to Maryland and every state in between.

Jelly Bean turned one sometime in June. We forgot to celebrate, but we give her birthday presents almost every day in the form of treats, toys, and bones.

I celebrated my July birthday with a small, quiet celebration, and by posting some sun-soaked photos I took with my birthday present.

In August, it was back to the states again for another big traveling month, with visits to Maine to see Charming's parents, then down the East Coast to see lots of friends and attend two weddings.

Maine:

K&C got married:

And then my brother too.

In September, Calli came to visit us in Palestine!

Fall brought a fun trip to the Golan Heights, where we stayed in a yurt and tasted some nice wine. Romantic.

I didn't post it on Packing Lust, but I had a great time painting my own and some friends faces for a Ramallah Halloween party:

We found a home for this stray puppy.

Just before Christmas, Ramallah got hit with some heavy snow; despite the weather, my family still managed to survive and thrive on their visit here.

Then it was Christmas in Rome. I plan to post soon about our Rome-antics and Italy fun, but for now here's a preview photo.

Career

My writing got a boost when my first book, Minimalism for Grandparents, won an About.com Reader's Choice Award early in the year. In April, I started blogging for Fairy Tale Life and officially launched my coaching business, Fairy Tale Life Coaching, in May. Today, I'm planning to bring my coaching practice over here to Packing Lust, and to bring my blog content over here too. In November, I focused hard on drafting book number two, Minimalist Living, and launched the book in December.

Packing Lists

There was only one post in 2013 dedicated solely to packing advice:

Minimalist Packing for Visiting the Gaza Strip

Must remedy that in the 2014 with more packing advice!

On Community

A huge theme for the year for me was community. When we moved into this home in March of 2013, we instantly had good friends in our neighbors, and we also gained access to the vibrant cafe downstairs, where it's easy to meet up with or bump into friends and colleagues.  Over and over, whether it was through what I was reading or in my life around me, I saw that community matters more than almost anything else. Whether it was my neighbor showing up at my door with fresh eggs from the chickens in her garden, family and strangers rallying around my mom's Race Across America in support of brain cancer victims, or my online community of beta readers and supporters of my book publishing, I felt deeply thankful for my community is 2013.

What were the themes for you in 2013?

What did you learn, experience, or do that you are proud of or grateful for?

Here's to a great 2014,

P.S. I thought this "year in review" thing was such a good idea, that I recently did one for 2012, too! I backdated it, but you can see it here.

How to Offend Your Neighbors

I had good intentions. I truly did.

I wanted to paint every room in my house a different color.  At the paint store, Morgan (my downstairs neighbor) and I chose what we hoped would be a deep, calming blue, like diving into a swimming pool on a hot day. It turned out looking more like Smurf blue. Okay.

Once the blue was done, I decided to paint one of my favorite spiritual quotes on one wall.

I read "Only love is real" in a book about A Course in Miracles, and I thought it would make an inspiring quote for me to contemplate each day during breaks from work.

I began, painting high on a ladder in thick, white block letters.

I soon finished, happy with my wall.

But then Morgan gently noted that I hadn't left much space between the "is" and the "real."

Since I wrote it high on the wall, it was visible from the street below, as we are on the second story.

So to Palestinians passing by -- people affected every day by the brutal Israeli occupation -- it looked like my wall said:

"Only love isreal." Or, to the quickly glancing eye,

Only love Israel.

And I had written the unintentionally political message in white on a blue wall, exactly the colors of the flag of Israel.

Who does that? Sets out to write an uplifting spiritual quote and ends up reminding her neighbors of the bane of their existence?

Me. I did it. Hahaha.

Although this happened close to when we moved into this apartment back in March of 2013, I thought it blog worthy now, since each time I tell the story it gets funnier. Mistake + time = funny.

Don't worry, I hussled back up that ladder to paint over the "real" with my Smurf blue. I moved it way over to the right and down, at such a safe distance that "is" and "real" could never, ever, be in danger of turning into "Israel."

Now the wall looks like this:

Lesson learned. Don't move into the middle of an oppressed people group and write a pro-oppressor message on your wall.

Love is real,

How to Turn Conflict-Zone Living into a Video Game

Welcome to the first Packing Lust post of 2014! I'm so excited to get back to posting after a nice, long, good-for-the-soul holiday break. Let me set the scene for you. It was mid December, and Charming and I were looking forward to our family's visit with warm anticipation.  We decorated. Charming made a star-shaped tree topper out of aluminum foil whose star shape would later be called into question.

Morgan (BFF, land lady, and co-owner of the cafe downstairs) did an AMAZING job decorating the restaurant, turning its already warm atmosphere into a festive tribute to the season.

And then, as if perfectly timed, it started snowing. How quaint. I took this picture with plans to show you what I assumed would be a light, pre-Christmas dusting.

But then it kept on snowing.

And snowing.

And snowing. Until we were completely snowed in. Except for Jelly, who is an unstoppable canine force.

The power was out for days. Propane was running dangerously low. Charming was fielding calls from freezing employees who didn't have a way to heat their homes, but who were more concerned about the run-off flooding Gaza and displacing thousands. I spent a day downstairs with Morgan and Saleh complaining about how cold I was. They let me sit in the spot closest to the fire, piled blankets on my shoulders, and put their dog in my lap. I went out at one point and got into a life-or-death snowball fight with strange men. I survived and promised Charming (and myself) I wouldn't leave again during the storm.

The roads out of town were closed. My vision of greeting my family at the airport wouldn't come true.

When they landed at Ben Gurion Airport, they had to  make their own way to a hotel in the city. Little did we know, Tel Aviv was sunny and practically balmy.

As soon as it was remotely possible, we got into a 4-wheel drive vehicle and headed for the beach. Getting out of town was like leaving the wreckage of a zombie-desolated city. Cars were sliding all over the road.  At one point, I left the safety of the Jeep to make a mad dash over ice for an ATM. Armed with cash, a first aid kit, extra water and blankets, we started our journey to the coast, neither of us sure if the roads would be open or passable.

We made it. It took twice as long as normal, but once we were out of the treacherous hills, it was an easy trip. It was so great to finally see my family and enjoy a Tel Aviv coastal sunset.

I should note now that this isn't my entire family. My dad and two more siblings weren't able to make it for this trip. Maybe next time.  We had such a wonderful time with our smart, funny, loving, and very patient and gracious family. We made sure their trip included lots of good food, starting on our first night together in Tel Aviv.

The next day it was back to Ramallah, where the snow was melting.

Charming outdid himself with his breakfast spreads. We ate.

And ate.

And ate.

and ate.

And went all around both Israel and Palestine, including an emotional visit to Hebron. Very few people were around, except for the TIPH observers. (Temporary International Presence in Hebron).

The family were good sports the whole time, turning the challenges of 3rd-world living into levels 1-5 of a video game. Level one being getting through passport control, and level five being a moment in Hebron when, upset Charming hadn't tipped them enough for their (unrequested) services, a huge gang of boys surrounded our vehicle and tried to trap us in the parking lot they had lead us to by closing the gates. We escaped our would-be captors by a very narrow opening. Perhaps our good luck was due to all the holiness, including a trip to the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem and the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.

Here they are stooping low to go in the door that was made small to protect the Church of the Nativity from marauders on horseback, and presumably, tall people.

We took them out to Ein Kenya, which is a beautiful spot of nature near Ramallah, and home of Juthour Arboretum.  We got our exercise, and my mom, brother, and sister managed to hang out looking like models for sunglasses and active wear.

We went to Jericho and on down to catch a view of the Dead Sea.

The trip gave me the opportunity to do some Gensplaining. I love pretending to know what I'm talking about.

Prince Charming got to do some tour-guiding as well. It was a pleasure when our visitors were so open-minded, curious, and eager to talk about the joys and challenges of the region.

Seriously, family, your visit and wonderful mindset rocked and made every minute fun.

I thank all three of you for being intrepid & adventurous,

positive and resilient in the face of obstacles and setbacks,

and extremely stylish and radiantly attractive.

I was so sad when you packed up to leave.

We love you!

How to Create a Beautiful Website Without Wanting to Die

Do you ever want to just give up before you start working on your website? Ever thrown yourself down dramatically on a dock and said “How am I ever going to create a beautiful and functional website about my sea shell collection?”

Yeah, me neither. But if you want to create a powerful website with minimal drama, you’re in luck. I’ve got a list of my favorite tips and resources right here for you. This is for those who don’t want to mess with a lot of code and aren’t professional developers, yet want to have as much freedom as possible over the look and feel of their site.

Here, for free, are my best steps and tips (and what I do) for creating websites:

Steps

1. Use WordPress.org (not WordPress.com). Follow this tutorial to get WordPress working for you to create a self-hosted blog that you will turn into an awesome website. Self-hosting via WordPress.org is the single best, industry standard way to get the most out of your website. You will eventually regret it if you go with Weebly or a similar service because when you’re ready to grow, they can’t grow with you.

Think About Theme

2. If you are going to use a free theme, select one with lot of positive reviews, not a new, untried one. Look from the dashboard of WordPress under the Appearance > Themes > Install Themes tab. However, I recommend learning on one of the themes that comes pre-installed free with WordPress, and then paying for the Headway Theme.

3. Now it’s time to learn the basics of WordPress, such as how to add a new post, create a menu, and add photos. The WordPress Codex has everything you need, starting with some basic terminology.

4. If you are willing to pay for a theme, I recommend Headway, which you can download here. You’ll probably only need the base plan ($87). Headway allows more customization-without-knowing-code than any other theme I’ve tried. Not convinced? Read more about it here.

5. I recommend watching tutorials to help you learn how to design in Headway, which involves minimal coding. Search Google or Youtube to find a video that answers your specific Headway questions, or you can find free tutorials here. If you are willing to pay to make your learning process and time shorter and sweeter, I recommend Websites Made Easy, by Nathalie Lussier. She has a way of breaking down technical projects into actual human language. I personally use her Websites Made Easy tutorials and I love them.

5. My favorite website to find royalty-free images to use on your blog or site is Photo Pin. I love how it helps you give proper attribution.

6. For editing images, you could use a program like Photoshop that takes forever and slows your computer down, or you could use PicMonkey, which I recommend.

7. Install a few basic plugins from the WordPress Dashboard. I recommend Akismet, BackupBuddy, and JetPack by WordPress.com.

tips

Break it step down into bite-sized pieces. Make a list, and cross each one off as you go.

Pace yourself — don’t try to get your website up and running perfectly in one day.

All most every WordPress question has already been answered  somewhere out there — Google and Youtube are your best, best, best, best, best, best friends.

Rock on!

Yours,

Your Worst Enemy

This is a guest post by my wonderful, funny and wise grandfather, Trog. Thanks for sharing, Trog.

I recently wrote about enthusiasm being your best friend. So, if enthusiasm is your best friend—then what is your worst enemy?

 That would be the opposite of enthusiasm, optimism, and happiness.

that would be pessimism, unhappiness, darkness, gloom and meanness.

I once had a friend who I worked with. Sometimes we went to lunch together, and sometimes we had to work on a case together. He seemed just like a regular “guy,” but spending time with him usually depressed me. He seemed to have no love of life. There was no excitement or happy expectation of anything. I think he was trying to be sophisticated by being unemotional.  He was blase, bored, and disappointed with his life. He seemed to think that he was too high and mighty to be doing such a dull job.

There are no jobs that are “dull” only “dull” people who don’t know how to make their job interesting and exciting. I’ll grant you sometimes it takes a lot of creativity and imagination. Sometimes you have to “work at it.” But, life is all about how you perceive things… another case of attitude controlling your altitude.

the lesson to learn is don’t let these unhappy complainers, and critics drag you down to their level. don’t let them grind you down. sometimes it is hard to resist joining them in their weltschmerz  (german)—”world woe”; romantic melancholy and sentimental pessimism.

I’ll end this missive with a tag line from the film The Bridge on the River Kwai (William Holden and Alex Guinness). The director of the film was David Lean–who also directed Lawrence of Arabia.

 You probably know the story- locale –a POW camp in the jungle of S.E. Asia. The POW’s are captured British soldiers who are being starved and beaten and made to work on the railroad. The Japanese Colonel in charge of the camp–stands on a box and addresses newly arrived prisoners. He says, the motto of this camp is: “Be happy in our work.”

(Image credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/zoomar/145322737/)

The Blender Story

This is part of the Don’t Be Like Me series, a new column of mostly true stories illustrating what not to do in life.Email me if you’d like to contribute. We all have a story.

When Prince Charming recently came home from a three day trip to Gaza, he was all “Agh… this really stressful thing happened…. someone almost got arrested and I lost my right foot in a freak accident, do you still love me?”

And I was like “AHHHH! That sounds horrible but this blender, and arg, and I am so frustrated. Pay attention to my needs first and then I’ll try to listen to you better.”

Prince Charming:  Ok, what’s the problem? (I love him so much.)

Me: I should have used the food processor for this but I don’t know how to use the d____ thing and I f-ing hate it!

(I’m attempting to use a butter knife, spatula, and chopstick simultaneously to dig the cementing pie-gel from under the sharp blades of the vitamix blender.)

Me: I HATE COOKING!!!

Prince Charming: You know, I can show you how to use the food processor.

Me: No! Cooking shouldn’t be like that! You should’t have have to assemble a complicated piece of machinery to cook! And then you have to wash it. And it’s so dangerous! All those moving parts. Ah! I want to push a button and do it! Cooking should be, like, easy. If I can’t figure out how to do it by myself, it isn’t worth it! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! WHY IS MY LIFE SO HARD???

Charming: So you didn’t have to learn how to use the oven? You just naturally know how to do everything?

Me: You probably have a point but I really don’t want to tell you that right now. That is why I said that first part in a quiet Shy Ronnie voice AND THIS IN MY LOUD YELLING VOICE:  ITS NOT THAT I KNOW HOW TO DO EVERYTHING, IT’S THAT WITH A LITTLE EXPERIMENTATION, YEAH, I CAN FIGURE ALMOST EVERYTHING OUT. BUT I’VE MESSED WITH THE FOOD PROCESSOR FOR LIKE TWO HOURS AND I STILL CAN’T FIGURE IT OUT. I DON’T WANT TO NEED HELP, I DON’T!!!!! OK?

You can probably see where I am going with this. It’s crazy to think you can do it all on your own. No one ever accomplishes anything magnificent all on their own, not even a vegan pie crust. If we look around, we are generally surrounded by kind, supportive, one-footed or two-footed people who are willing and eager to help us learn what we need to learn, go where we need to go, and be the people we need to be.

Don’t be like me and try to do it all on your own without help. We are all in this together.

ADDENDUM: Don’t worry, Prince Charming did not really lose his foot.  That was a metaphor for an extremely stressful experience that took a toll on him. Thankfully, not THAT much of a toll.

Pie crust-covered hugs (the best kind),

(photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lintmachine/2987986325/)

Why Selling Art is an Act of Compassion

I was recently talking to a fellow artist — a photographer– and I told her that I looked at her photos when I was having a bad day and needed to feel better.

her response was incredulous. “do you really mean that? or are you just saying that because you’re my friend?”

I couldn’t believe she was asking me if I really meant what I said. Her work is stunning. Her business is growing. Her clients are overjoyed. Is she still maturing as a photographer? Yes. She’s still finding her voice and vision. But her work is already way above that of entry-level professional photographers.

Like many artists who are in a similar stage, she is having trouble charging what her services are really worth.  She underestimates her own abilities, which is something I frequently see in my work as an artist coach. This underestimation undercuts her ability to market and sell her services.

There’s something she doesn’t understand, and it is something many artists don’t understand. This something is the single most important thing I can tell an artist about selling art:

selling art is an act of compassion.

It’s not about you. It’s not about your skills, or lack thereof. It’s not about your fears about not being able to fulfill your artistic vision. Every artist has growing to do.

SELLING ART IS ABOUT THE EFFECT YOUR ART HAS ON THOSE WHO EXPERIENCE IT.

And that effect is a powerful one. Art makes people feel something. As humans, we need to feel. We need to feel strong emotions of passion, excitement, surprise, shock, connection, serenity, joy, rage, and the whole gamut. Perhaps if you truly understood the affect your art has on people (not everyone perhaps, but the special group who “gets it” who is it your job to find) then you would see what an act of compassion it is to create and sell art.

There is no other industry or field that can claim such a noble purpose. Some people think that selling a utilitarian item – a washing machine, for example – is easier than selling art, because a washing machine does something we all need – it cleans our clothes.  We all need clean clothes, right?

More than clean clothes, we all need beauty in our lives. Beauty makes us forget our troubles for a moment, and it can also sooth our wounds, acting as a balm for heart ache. In slums around the world, people don’t own washing machines. They walk around in dirty clothes. But take a look at photos of these slums, and you’ll see the satellites and television antennae. Somehow, they found a way to bring art into a place missing most basic necessities.

All great art comes out of love, not just for ourselves, but for others.  Let’s remember that when we sell our art, we are offering one of the most numinous experiences a human being can have. That is priceless, of course.

Yet human psychology teaches us that people value what they pay for more than what they get for free.   Value, or benefit to the viewer’s life increases when he or she pays for art (with money or something else of value).

Therefore, not only is making and sharing art an act of compassion, but selling art is an even greater act of compassion.

By pricing your art well and communicating clearly about it (which is all selling is), you as an artist are actually increasing the amount of joy your customer can feel about your art.

I hope this is starting to sink in. By selling your art at the right price, you are effectively improving the quality of your customer’s life experience more than even meeting his or her basic needs would. Don’t believe it when someone tells you humanity’s need for transcendence is less than humanity’s need for basic necessities. If that were true, the world wouldn’t be at war over ideas. While there is violence over access to basic resources, world peace is much more threatened by ideas like culture, religion, equality, love, and freedom. We fight hardest for the things that bring us a sense of connection and transcendence.

I believe if art was more valued in the world, there would be more peace in the world. Art brings people together. Art lifts people up, making them feel better when they otherwise might turn to violence.   The value of art is its great potential to bring world peace.

As artists, it’s our jobs to be the first to value art. The way we value art is by creating it and selling it.  Have compassion on the world by selling your art.

♥ ♥ ♥ ,

(Heart image credit :http://www.flickr.com/photos/bestrated1/371032725/)

What I Gained and Lost in the Packing Lust Move

Welcome to the new Packing Lust! I've had a challenging time (adventurous is my preferred word) giving the website a complete makeover and moving it from Weebly to Wordpress. I learned a lot in the process, so overall it was a positive experience. I couldn't have done the move without the help of a Bangladeshi technical whiz who goes by the moniker Genius Fred. Thank you, Mr. Ferdoush. Wordpress is a much more powerful platform that allows me to self-host my blog and do much more with it than I could with Weebly. I'm gaining flexibility and control over the design and user experience of Packing Lust. However, I had to make one major sacrifice to move to Wordpress.

I lost your comments.

I wasn't able to import your beautiful words of support and encouragement to the new site. They are gone. However, it's very important to me that you know how much your comments mean to me, even now, when they are gone from individual posts. Through the year and a half that Packing Lust as been around, your comments made me feel connected, supported, and encouraged.

I want to give special thanks to Natalie, Maria, Calli, Lucia, Mo, Trog, Special K, Dan Kenney, Philip Harold, Grandpa, John Tolhurst, Rewa, and all of you who took the time to comment (for your privacy, I listed your names as you chose to in your comments). Special thanks to Natalie and Maria who would win first prize for blog support if I was giving out prizes. Knowing that all of you are keeping up with what we are doing on Packing Lust means the world to me. Each time there is a comment on the blog, I excitedly click to see it and my heart is warmed by your words.

Please keep commenting on the new blog if you enjoy the writing and photos. Thanks so much!

What’s More Fun Than Being a “Serious” Artist?

Answer: Being a fun artist.

That is, having fun creating your art. If what you are working on isn’t something that you would not read/watch/view/experience during your weekend chill time, stop! Do something fun.

One of my favorite artist-writers, Austin Kleon, suggests:

Draw the art you want to see, start the business you want to run, play the music you want to hear, write the books you want to read, build the products you want to use – do the work you want to see done.

I wholeheartedly agree with Austin on this one.  You've got to be inspired by what you already love. Or, you’ve got to create something that you have looked for, and not found. Ideally, a combination of the two.

AND HEY, YOU CAN BE AS “SERIOUS” AS YOU WANT TO BE.

If that’s truly who you are. If you are working on an anomic novel where the main character’s journey is one long walk through the rain, ending with her suicide, that’s totally cool. As long as that’s the sort of fiction you read when you are trying to relax after a long day.

So have more fun as an artist by creating the sort of things that you enjoy. I know that if you make the sort of art that is fun for you to consume, your work can find an audience.

Take action now by making a list of the books you are reading and the art you love. Compare this list with the projects you are working on. If there are no similarities, you may want to rethink that project.

WHAT DO YOU THINK? LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS.

How Artists and Writers are Usually the Opposite of Driven Business Types

Today I got an update from Jonathan Fields of Good Life Project. He interviews all kinds of people who are changing the world in a meaningful way. I’m a fan of his show, and read the bio of the man he recently interviewed, Chip Conley. Here are a couple snippets.

“As the founder of the legendary hotel group, Joie de Vivre, he shattered the status quo for excellence in hotel leadership and customer experience.”

and

“Chip was riding the crest of the wave. Then things went south…

With his success as an author he began traveling the country speaking to packed houses. But the hellacious schedule found him undernourished both creatively and physically. While on stage his body failed him in the most profound way. He literally died on stage. Chip’s heart had to be restarted several times in the amublance to the hospital.

He made it through, but it was a wake-up call. Conley wasn’t here just to build an empire, he was here to create meaning.”

The thing is, we’ve heard this story so many times. Ambitious business person experiences stress-related health problems and realizes life is about more than making money.

When artists, dreamers, and creatives hear this story, we simply can’t relate.

The “lesson” seems obvious. We start out in life instinctively knowing that this journey isn’t about empire-building, but rather, about meaning-building. In fact, we may wish we could focus a little more on making money — like Chip Conley before his heart attack.

However, what the artist instinctively knows about life is a huge gift, and also a massive head start. Some people need a heart attack to slow them down and get them to focus on what’s important. For others, it’s natural.

 The challenge for artists, creatives, and dreamers who want to make meaning AND money is to focus on consistently building habits, or rituals, that combine both business skills and heart-based creation.

The way to start is through the 12 Rituals for Art + Income.

Genghis Khan Golan

We Came, We Saw, We Ate Chocolate

Our planned road trip for this vacation.

I figured as long as I was going to name this post after a Mongolian conquerer who has nothing to do with the Golan, I might as well throw in a reference to a Roman conquerer who also has nothing to do with the Golan.Except, well, the area does have a history of being conquered.  With it's natural resources -- soil made fertile by ancient volcanic eruptions, a large freshwater lake, naturally occurring wind tunnels, and mountain ranges great for military look-outs -- it's an enviable piece of land.As far as I can tell, the history is similar to that of the rest of Israel.  (By the way, this will be an amateur and probably incorrect brief history.) There were people living in the Syrian Golan in relative peace from many different ethnoreligions: in this case, Muslims, Jews, and Druze. With the influx of Jewish settlers in the mid 20th century, Syria got warlike and brutal. Israel conquered the area in 1968, and Syria tried to get it back during the Yom Kippur war of 1977, but Israel was able to beat them back. Since then, it has been Israel's most peaceful border, thanks in part to a UN peacekeeping group. Now the area is known for wine, chocolate, waterfalls, and being green.

The Packing Story

Despite the name of this blog, I do not like to pack. In fact, one of my goals with this blog is to make packing easier on myself and others. I like to spend minimal time packing, and still have everything I need, while traveling as light as possible. Oh, and looking as chic and non-touristy as possible. (you'll rarely find me wearing tracksuits or socks with sandals, although I have stooped to the occasional usage of a fanny pack).So to prove to myself that I am learning something about packing, I gave myself a 15 minute limit to pack for this  four day trip.And I failed. 15 minutes turned into 45 minutes, and with the contents of my wardrobe exploded  all over my room, my resolve was weak and I was vulnerable to temptation, which came in the form of friends downstairs in the cafe inviting me to have drinks with them.  So I went downstairs and celebrated life, and a couple hours later, finally finished packing. And packed it all in a tiny day backpack and a little computer brief case-type thing.  I don't have photo proof, so you'll just have to take my word for it, okay?

Hitting the Road

We started our road trip just north of Jerusalem in our home of Ramallah, Palestine, and went up to the top of Israel where the Sea of Galilee is -- the freshwater lake that marks the entrance to the Golan. (You can just make out that Sea on the map inside all the blue placemarkers).  From there we traveled higher to the Golan Heights, a large plateau ridged with a few mountains. A bit further north, and we would've been in Syria, where no sane person wants to be right now.A few days before our trip, I was doodling on a white board, and drew a figure that Prince Charming said reminded him of a Young Genghis Khan. So I turned it into an inspirational poster:

 

The funny thing is, we spent the first night of our Golan trip in a Mongolian Yurt, at a camp called Genghis Khan in the Golan.

 

Truly, as the brochure read, our yurt was  "The Hilton of Tents."

 

From there, we hiked to a view of the Sea of Galilee, where, according to the New Testament, most of Jesus' sermons and miracles took place. Jesus would not be happy to note that many hillsides around the Sea of Galilee are now off limits due to mines left over from the previously described warfare.

 

Saint Peter, however, would be happy to note that tourists in the area are enjoying the local delicacy -- fried "Saint Peter Fish".

 

The Golan Heights area is known for its lush wet seasons, but in October anywhere in Israel or Palestine, one is mostly going to see parched land, and that was  certainly the case for this road trip.

 

" data-mce-

After about all the brown we could handle, we saw this signrising out of the aridity, promising something that seemed improbable.

 

Despite TLC's advice to the contrary, we went chasing waterfalls. And we were rewarded when, just off the highway, there was a gorge split by a respectable-for-dry-season waterfall accessorized by layers of greenery.

 

Later, it was time to explore wine country. We went to the visitor's center in Qatzrin ("the Heart of the Golan") where we watched a 30-minute recruitment video that had us both momentarily wishing we were Jewish so we could move to the Golan, meet a handsome cowboy, fondle the  rich loam, get drunk on pure mountain spring water, and have incredibly gorgeous, healthy children. Perhaps in another universe. In this one, we would go on to get incredibly lost and frustrated driving in circles, and eventually find one of the boutique wineries we'd been hearing about.

 

This family-owned place was run by a married couple, their two adult children, and the spouses of those children. This arrangement would be a dream come true for some people, but I must say I smelled something awry within the rich emotional bouquet that made up the atmosphere of the place. Mrs. Assaf was kind and hospitable to us, bringing us perhaps a dozen (or more! I lost count!) wines to taste, but she seemed sad or distracted. Perhaps she was tired, perhaps she had been arguing with someone, perhaps the winery was too busy, or something else was worrying her. The deeper into our cups we sank, the more outrageous were the scenarios that  I dreamed up about what could possibly be leading to the slightly dour atmosphere. At any rate, the wine and snacks were delicious.

 

 A visit to a chocolate factory was more cheerful.

Even the loftiest of cocoa highs couldn't keep us from feeling deflated after a failed attempt to fill up our gas tank. There aren't a lot of gas stations in the Golan, and the one on the kibbutz where the chocolate factory was located seemed to be out of order. It took our card, but then only gave us one shekel's worth of gas. On our next try, imagine our surprise when we unintentionally purchased air for our tires from the next machine over. The attendant couldn't help us, which we assumed was because of the language barrier. But apparently not, because an American couple  who spoke Hebrew rolled up next, and had similar problems.  Despite bonding over us all being from Los Angeles, our Hebrew connection didn't help. No one left that gas station with a full tank.

 

We bumped into these folks later on Mount Bental, home of a former Syrian military bunker that is now a geographic wonder and popular vista for tourists. We chatted about how it turns out that Visa isn't a good credit card to bring on a trip to Israel.On Mount Bental, we could see into Syria and get our bearings.

 

The peak and the path to it were decorated with wooden cutouts of soldiers with guns and sculptures made by artist Yoop de Yons from old weapon parts.

My favorite meal of the whole trip was at a French restaurant I don't remember the name or location of. Roasted figs stuffed with goat cheese, followed by papardella pasta with smoked goose in wine and butter, with cream, herbs, and poached egg, all washed down with white wine.

Finally it was back down to the Sea of Galilee, where I walked on water. That is to say, I walked along the shoreline for a photo op.

How to Make Jibneh (Guest Post by Prince Charming)

Jibneh is the Arabic word for cheese. As many of you know, Charming is a talented and dedicated chef.  He enjoys challenges like trying a new recipe or cooking an unfamiliar vegetable. I've enjoyed the results of his dairy explorations and think it only fair that we share his forays into fromage with you. -GPH

How to Make Jibneh by Prince Charming

I originally started making cheese in Palestine because Cheddar costs a fortune. I did not think that Cheddar would be hard to make,  but that it would simply take a lot of time. I was wrong; it is hard to make. I found out, however that another thing I miss from home (which costs more than it should in America) is very easy to make. Basic white cheese. Also called full cream ricotta. Or queso blanco. Or paneer. Or Farmer’s Cheese, Cottage Cheese. Or, in Palestine, Jibneh.I also started making cheese in Palestine because we moved into an awesome apartment above La Vie Cafe in Ramallah. Our neighbors own the cafe and their love of DIY fit in pretty well with the way my wife and I want to live. It’s inspiring. The fact that they rave about everything I make doesn’t hurt.I wake up early for work, usually around 5am. I like watching the sunrise, and it's a good way to remind myself that I want to skip hangovers when we’re drinking cocktails at the cafe downstairs in the evening. The habit, however, is hard to break on the weekends, and I am usually lucky if I can sleep until 6am. To kill time until Genevieve wakes up I usually do something in the kitchen -- bread or cheese for the most part. Sometimes butter. I have mustard marinating right now too.

Simple White Cheese

Ingredients

A pot, 2 liters of cow milk, lemon juice or white vinegar, salt, cheesecloth. If you don’t have cheesecloth a clean cotton t-shirt or pillowcase cut up into a square will do. If you want to press the cheese, you'll need a carton (such as a cleaned out ice cream carton) with small holes sliced into it for the liquid to drain.

 

Instructions

• Heat two liters of milk in a pot until it is almost too hot to put you finger in. Don’t let it boil. turn off the heat.
• Immediately add ¼ cup (125 grams or so) of white vinegar or the juice of half a lemon, mix.
• Let sit for 20 minutes until the curd and whey have separated (when you see white chunks of cheese floating in yellowish liquid, it is done)
• Strain this through a cheesecloth. I usually tie this to my kitchen faucet and let it drain overnight, but if you want to eat it immediately just ball the cheese in the cloth and press it until most of the whey is out.
• Add a couple pinches of salt and mix.
•  If you want paneer or queso blanco, you can press the cheese slightly using heavy cans or jars set on top of the cheese in a carton. Here is how it looks pressed:

 

If you want classic American cottage cheese, mix it with a bit of cream only without pressing. Otherwise, I usually mix it with spices of some kind, cream, and put it through the food processor. It is particularly good mixed with lemon pepper, jalapenos, or zataar (Genevieve's favorite).Alternatively you can add it to pastry,  or you can use it to make lasagna.Serve with olives, olive oil, zataar, or whatever else you want.

Sawtain! (Double Health = Bon Appetit!) *** Al albak (right back atcha -- literally "to your heart") Prince Charming

3 Ways to Take Control of Your Time

 

The 4th ritual for art and income is turning your schedule into your own personal fairy tale. That means owning your time. It means not letting someone else take the reins of your day. It means having time to do the things you want and need to do — making art, working on your career or business, spending time with the people you love, and anything else you need to do.It means doing what’s important without feeling guilty or like you are forgetting a commitment.

Without further ado, here are three ways to take control of your time.

1. Find your soul-mate calendar situation. This love relationship doesn’t have to last forever, but it does need to be exclusive. Settle on one calendar set-up, and stick with it. I prefer Google calendar, but if a beautiful notebook with touchable, soft pages is what works for you, choose that. It has to be something you will use.

2.

Practice three ways to politely decline invitations or demands. If your default is “sure!” or “yes!” when someone asks you for something, it’s time to change your default response to demands on your time to something like: “No thanks.” “Let me think about it.” “Maybe…. can I get back to you?” This is the key to owning your time. We all have the same 24 hours in a day, and those who make the most of it spend those 24 hours doing activities they enjoy and that move them closer to their goals and desires.

3.

 Aim for a state of grace, not perfection. No one, least of all those with the gifts of imagination and creativity, is perfect at managing their time. We all forget appointments and commitments. Grace means saying sorry when you let someone down by forgetting a commitment. Grace means forgiving yourself and moving on when you let yourself down. Grace means high standards and higher levels of kindness to yourself and others. Take action on idealizing your schedule by asking a few people you admire how they keep track of their commitments. Then create your own unique system so that you can create your ideal schedule.

Calli's Visit to Israel and Palestine

Today's entry falls in the middle of the much anticipated visit of my dear friend Caroline. I met Calli when I was studying at the University of East Anglia in Norwich, England for a semester of university, a fact that we've both had to tell stern passport control agents as we entered each other's countries to visit over the years.

Poor Calli's entry to Israel via Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv this visit was prolonged as they put her through the standard series of interviews they do when finding out someone is visiting Palestine.

I paced and worried as over an hour passed from the time her plane was supposed to land. I knew that they were holding her in a room somewhere by keeping her passport hostage.

When she finally emerged and after joyful and relieved hugs, she told me they asked many of the same questions over and over. They even asked "Aren't you scared to be going to the West Bank?" which after so long living in the West Bank seems like a funny question; the gap between how the average Israeli seems to perceive the safety/instability of the West Bank and the actual reality on the ground is so wide.

While Calli has been here, we've talked a lot about how the people of these interwoven countries  react differently to the perceived threats they offer to each other. In Israel, there are bag and trunk checks at the entrances to major malls and parking garages. There are lines for free gas masks. In Palestine, they don't plan much more than three days out for anything. Life is too unpredictable to try to control anything. There could be a protest, closure, or (in Gaza) a missile strike. The result in both countries is the same: people who live with constant stress and anxiety.

Here I've not observed the sense of The Good Life, or the relaxed openness I've found in countries like Italy and France.  In both countries I demand or take what I need - it is never given to me without strong action.  In Israel I must demand loudly that the server at a restaurant come take my order because that's what everyone does.  No demand, no service. In Palestine I must cut off other drivers in traffic because that's how everyone drives.  If you don't cut someone off, you simply won't be able to go where you need to go.

Another interpretation of all this loud demanding and offensive driving is that is it simply part of the passionate Mediterranean culture of the area. But I think it's a bit more than passion I'm observing. I sense deep rooted fear and oppression.  It's almost impossible to avoid tapping into the fuel line of fear that runs people's lives here.

In addition to talking about the ups and downs of life here with Calli, we've made sure to experience a lot of the ups, starting with hummus and salads on the beach in Tel Aviv on Friday afternoon. Calli is a gifted photographer and took many of these photos:

Saturday Prince Charming made an Instagramable and delicious traditional breakfast with eggs, zatar, olives, and more:

We went to the Dead Sea for a float -- and a therapeutic skin masque made from the naturally

occurring black mud there.

Sunday we visited Jerusalem and took a walk along the ramparts. The best part of that was holding an invisible bow and arrow aimed out of one of the narrow defense slots at the top of the wall.

Later in the evening we went to the Tower of David light show which got great reviews on Trip Advisor. It was very impressive and well-produced.

Last night we enjoyed evening and sunset views from Hosh Jasmin restaurant in the West Bank near Bethlehem and Calli enjoyed her new favorite drink - Leemoon bee nana, or lemon with mint, an icy sweet thirst quencher.

Now we are headed out for some shopping and yoga.

Thanks for visiting Calli, it's been wonderful to share our temporary home with you!

Day of the Catastrophe

I was having trouble deciding what to blog -- there are so many things I could choose from recently -- so I decided to play catch up, and tell you about a cultural moment I had back in May of this year.Nakba Day, or the commemoration of the Day of the Catastrophe, happens on May 15 each year in Palestine to mark the forced exodus of Palestinians from their homeland in 1948 and ongoing.The thrilling sound of drums and bagpipes (the latter have been curiously appropriated as the national instrument, or perhaps Scotland appropriated them from Palestine) caught me by surprise as I did some shopping in town that day, and I stopped to capture the spirit in the air. Despite it being a commemorative day, the word celebratory does more to accurately describe the sense of festivity there was as rowdy children marched, not perfectly in line, but adorably playing their drums and waving their flags. Ramallah residents try hard to stay positive in the face of military occupation, to protest only peacefully, and to mark all major holidays with a parade.

The parade phenomenon is my favorite display of ecumenicalism here, because there are only a limited number of children who play in the marching bands. These bands are called "scouts" and the groups are formed of children of various religions and both genders.

 

So the scouts come out to play for the holidays that all three major religious groups here celebrate. They play for the Muslim holidays, the Eastern Christian holidays, and the Latin Christian holidays. The scouts' proud parents of all religions come out for all the parade holidays - no matter the associated religion -- to see their children march and play.Since the Latin and Eastern Orthodox Christmases and Easters both fall on different days, the Christians of the city compromise: Latin Christians get to celebrate their Christmas day with a parade, and Eastern Christians get to celebrate their Easter day with a parade. That way there isn't parade overload and the city celebrates each major holiday only once a year, in a show of unity.

My Brother's Wedding & Back to Palestine

It's always a challenge getting back to our little slice of heaven in Palestine. Last time my taxi home from the airport broke down, forcing me to hang out on the side of the highway for an hour while a replacement came.

This time, our first flight was late, meaning our entire trip became delayed by almost 24 hours. Then upon our arrival in Tel Aviv, we discovered that the airline lost all three of our checked bags (one was filled with books donated to a local library, but yes, we still traveled with a rather un-minimalist amount of stuff).  After filing an incident baggage, we jumped in the special cab reserved for us (not one in the regular queue, which can only travel within Israel) . After a trip free of engine problems, we finally arrived home.

Home to our garden gate, that is. Morgan, our neighbor, rushed out to meet us at the entrance, explaining that we couldn't go into our house yet and it would be best to wait in the cafe for ten minutes or so.

Apparently, the bees, who live in a hive on the roof, had escaped. A swarm of them was filling the hallway

entrance to our apartment, thereby blocking our entry.  Exhausted from our voyage, we just had to laugh. We waited ten minutes, and then gingerly stepped our way through the remaining cloud of confused, tired bees to our apartment. It was wonderful to be home and great to see Jelly Bean.

The last leg of our USA trip included my brother's beautiful wedding and then a trip to the family cottage at Holden Beach.

I practiced my photography a lot at the wedding, snapping some portraits with Prince Charming's 50mm lens.

NOTE: These photos are in a very small size because the internet is very, very slow right now, which means each photo is taking several minutes to upload. I will wait as long as it takes to upload my favorite photo from the wedding in a larger size, so when you see the bigger photo, you know that's my favorite.

I also handed over the camera for this shot.

Then I stepped back to get the bigger picture, ending with the late, late Chinese lantern send-off attended by partygoers who had more stamina than I.

I took these from the balcony of the B&B on the farm where the wedding and festivities were held.

East Coast USA Travels

I'm traveling with a newly purchased MacBook Air, and bloggish things are taking me twice as long to figure out as I learn how to use this little shiny new machine. Though I almost threw this computer out the window last night, today I managed to upload some photos of our East Coast extravaganza. I'll put them in rough chronological order here.We landed in Raleigh, and started off with a quick visit with former roomie Julie, husband Brandon, and their already-a-heartbreaker handsome little guy, Ezra.

This trip is bookended by two family weddings. One has already happened, and the second happens this weekend. Here's the first happy, glowing couple.

Next was a jaunt to DC where we got to hang with Natalie, whose peaceful spirit could singlehandedly keep rockets from firing all over the globe.

Prince Charming got to live the dream of being an astronaut at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, if living the dream means standing in front of a mural.

 

 

Natalie and her partner showed us lots of...

In the form of hospitality and grass-fed half and half  (and other goodies).

Then it was on to Maine, where we are now. Currently feeling very happy in the care of Charming's charming parents.

And getting lots of love in the form of food, like this fresh baked artisanal bread.

Finally I know what a lobster roll is.

And a Maine sunset.

I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that I failed in the packing light department for this trip. My goal was to bring the things I needed to feel stylish at two weddings and tromping through Maine and partying in D.C. Well, I brought too much. Learn from what I say, not what I do! I don't have a picture of it, but my bag is so heavy I almost fell over when I last wore it as a back pack. If you go to my Pinterest packingboard, you can see the packing goal for this trip, as well as a pin for what I packed. I went one dress and two shirts over that goal, and then I bought several clothing items. I have been jettisoning a few things along the way, but I could have thrived with far less. However, I'm enjoying having the variety on this rather long trip, so it's not all bad.  Hopefully my back will survive the heavy bag.