Cycling, Part I

I realize that it may seem like I've fallen off the face of the earth. But don't worry, this isn't the case; I am still alive and well. With a new position at work in April, my mom coming out for a visit, Ryan away on multiple trips and enjoying time with good friends, life has become quite fast-paced as of late. And I haven't made writing a priority, though not for lack of good topics swirling around my head. Time to get back on the bandwagon!

The sun has decided to make an appearance in Holland (at last!), and there is no longer an excuse to ignore my bicycle every morning which sits in the back garden. Believe me, I've had plenty of excuses; Oh, it looks too cold out, I'm tired, I'm running late for work. You name it, there was always something I could pull out of my hat to stamp out the very thought of pedaling the 8 mile round trip journey. But my friend Noemi, who lives a mere stone's throw away, stated what I had already been thinking for some time, 'Do you want to try cycling to work together?'

It's not as though I am new to riding. Ryan and I cycle every Sunday to Mass and around town to run errands, grocery shop and meet up with friends, but riding to work 5 days a week, that's a commitment I wasn't sure I wanted to make! However, I've been getting frustrated with tram connections, buses that drive like bats out of hell (I kid you not!) and even the occasional walk home which takes a long time, so I agreed to give this idea a chance.

The first morning we rode in, I wondered why I hadn't done this earlier. I loved feeling the morning breeze through the woods and quietly contemplating the day ahead. Funny how a few moments in the fresh air can change around one's mood. It is also nice having a biking buddy (which we now call each other). I think we've invoked in the other the spirit to keep this pattern going. We've even changed our route a few times to keep the scenery interesting.

When I first arrived in the land of bicycles, my little legs weren't very strong and I struggled to keep up; Many a Dutch rider would pass me by; I'm ashamed to say even the grey-haired. It was time to build up my strength! As they say, no pain, no gain. I am happy to report that I am much faster now and can keep up with the throngs of other cyclists along busy bike paths, through wooded trails and the cobble-stoned streets to my humble abode. It's been almost four weeks of taking this new mode of transportation to work and I'm very happy I tossed my excuses aside and got out there.


Note: As I first began writing this post a few days ago, the weather has changed with thunderstorm clouds looming overhead. Oh well! Next week looks better and you can be sure that I'll be back on my trusty bike passing as many people as I can along the way.

Habemus Papam

Pope Francis on the night of his election, March 13, 2013

We have a Pope! On Wednesday evening, the second day of the conclave, white smoke billowed from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel. I had been following CNN all day at work (it's nice to be in the same time zone as the Vatican), but only thick, black smoke in the morning and no further developments came before I left the office around 5:30 pm. I sent Ryan a message over Skype asking him to follow the news and let me know what colour the smoke was for the second evening ballot the Cardinals would cast before heading out to dinner with a friend. I really didn't think a pontiff would be selected this early, as it seemed there was no clear consensus yet on who would be the front runner.

Less than two hours into my my meal, I received an excited phone call from Ryan. "Didn't you get my texts?" No, I hadn't! White smoke, white smoke, white smoke! I told him to call me back when, as tradition goes, a Cardinal walks out onto the balcony of St. Peter's Basilica and announces the name of the man who has been chosen to lead the world's 1.2 billion Catholics. I could barely sit still and was somewhat disappointed that I would not be able to watch this moment live on television.

About 30 minutes later, my cell phone rings. This is it, I thought! Ryan then takes me through a play by play - lights turning on behind the balcony, rustling curtains and as Ryan put it, a white man appearing. Oh, I thought, it's not an African which I hoped for. I then said well who is it? Is it the Canadian they highlighted? Surely not an American? Latin American!? Ryan then said he has chosen the name Francesco. Is he Italian? Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, an ARGENTINEAN! At last, a Pope from South America!! Needless to say, after finishing dinner, I walked quickly to my tram and ran home from my stop to watch the coverage.

Many people have asked me what I think of our new Holy Father. My first impressions are that he is a man of deep faith, humility, with a love for the poor and who's actions speak louder than any words, just like the one he took his name from, St. Francis of Assisi. When Pope Francis appeared on the balcony in front of thousands of onlookers awaiting his first words, he said "Brothers and Sisters, good evening. You know that the task of the conclave was to give Rome a bishop. It seems my brother Cardinals went almost to the ends of the earth to find one." What was most unexpected and unprecedented was instead of first blessing the people, he asked for their prayers and that they bless him. Wow, I must admit, my heart was full and my eyes pricked with tears. He is indeed a Pope of the people.

At his Installation Mass this morning, Pope Francis called us to love and to protect each and every person, especially the poorest and those most vulnerable in our society, as well as our environment and creation. He defined the role of the Successor of Peter as one who is to use power as service and this service must protect all of God's people. He gave us these words to live out: "Today, too, amid so much darkness, we need to see the light of hope and to be men and women who bring hope to others. To protect creation, to protect every man and every woman, to look upon them with tenderness and love, is to open up a horizon of hope; it is to let a shaft of light break through the heavy clouds; it is to bring the warmth of of hope! For believers, for us Christians, like Abraham, like Saint Joseph, the hope that we bring is set against the horizon of God, which has opened up before us in Christ." Such powerful words that impress upon me what his papacy will be about!

I am excited to be a Catholic at this important moment in history as the Church shifts her eyes to another part of the world, Latin America, and is challenged by our new Holy Father. May the Holy Spirit guide him and may Our Mother Mary always be near him. Pope Francis, the faithful around the world are praying for you and your ministry amongst us. God bless you!




Viva il Papa!

Postcards from Assisi

In October, we had an amazing opportunity to travel to Rome for the canonization of seven Saints, one of whom is very special to me, St. Kateri Tekakwitha. I will devote a separate blog to this and her significance to Seattle, as it is truly one of those miraculous stories that cannot go untold.

My former bosses, the Archbishop of Seattle, Peter Sartain, and the Archbishop Emeritus of Seattle, Alex Brunett, led a pilgrimage from Seattle to Rome for the canonization, and due to the personal importance of this event, Ryan and I made sure we could join them (it's only a short flight after all!). The morning after our arrival to Rome, we met up with the group for a day trip to Assisi, one of the most spiritual cities I have ever encountered. There is no question in my mind now why Pope John Paul II chose this city for a historic interfaith prayer gathering for world peace back in 2002.

A little background on St. Francis of Assisi. He was born into a noble family. His father was a wealthy cloth merchant and he lived a great life of privilege and pleasure. After having what you would call a life-changing moment, St. Francis prayed to God and had a vision. God asked him to repair my Church which is falling into ruins. He then revoked his father's wealth and gave away all of his worldly possessions, devoting himself to a life of poverty and serving the sick, the dying and those in great need.

When I took in the story of his life, represented in frescos covering the walls of the church and visited his humble grave in the crypt of the Basilica after which he is named, I was overcome by his deep and radical call to the poor. It is said that St. Francis died naked on the ground with no material items around his saying "remember you are dust and from dust you shall return."

I didn't take many pictures in Assisi, maybe because I was caught up in the moment of being a true pilgrim in this city, imagining what St. Francis himself experienced over 700 years ago. I have shared a few postcards. The picturesque landscape filled with timeless buildings, church towers, the olive orchards that sprawl into the valley below, and hope I can paint a picture of the Catholic history, devotion and peace that this place still offers those who enter its city gates.

With violence erupting all over the world - in Syria, Republic of the Congo, Egypt, Israel and many other places - it is more important than ever to become an ambassador of peace. I truly believe that we can transform the world by our own actions. St. Francis was a man who spent his lifetime on earth ushering in understanding and peace. The prayer from my lips is that I, too, Lord can be an instrument of your peace.

Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love,
For it is in giving that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Peace be with you!

 

 

 

 

The olive orchards of Assisi

 

 

 

 

 

Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi

St. Clare Basilica

 

 



Second Autumn

                                                                                
                                           "i thank You God for most this amazing
                                           day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
                                           and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
                                           which is natural which is infinite which is yes
                                           (i who have died am alive again today,
                                           and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
                                           day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
                                           great happening illimitably earth)
                                           how should tasting touching hearing seeing
                                           breathing any-lifted from the no
                                           of all nothing-human merely being
                                           doubt unimaginable You?
                                           (now the ears of my ears awake and
                                           now the eyes of my eyes are opened)"

                                                              ee cummings

It is my second autumn in Den Haag. I love autumn; it is my favourite time of the year. I also love ee cummings. My mom once shared a collection of his prose with me (not sure how old I was) and my love of poetry was born. His style is whimsical and rebellious with words running into one another, punctuation spattered here and there, and lines spilling vertically down the page. Oh, poetry. If you haven't been introduced to the pipe-smoking and free-versed Cummings, pick up a copy of his poetry. It is enough to cheer you up on even the most cloudy of days.

We recently moved to a new neighbourhood called Bezuidenhout. We love it here and upon waking up rather early this morning, I decided to venture out with the dog for a nice, long walk in the woods. The sun was out and the sky the perfect shade of deep blue. I caught a few images of autumn and the changing colours happening right outside my door.  And now the ears of my ears awake and the eyes of my eyes are opened.

Guardian of the wood

Sir Lord Taylor on his throne

  

 

Our priest writes small little tokens of wisdom each week in our parish bulletin. A month or so ago, I cut out the short blurb he published on autumn and what we can glean from the trees. I am always cutting out bits and bobs of things I read; this would also explain why I have so many scraps of paper tucked away in different books for safe keeping. I know they will come in handy some day.

I will leave you with Fr. Theodor's words. I believe we can all learn from Mother Nature,
and her Creator.

"The farther we move from the Equator, the more we can experience nature's seasons. On September 21, Autumn has officially started. It is in the air. It can be felt. There will still be sunny days or sunny moments, but the temperatures are slowly dropping. The best indicator of Autumn chills are the trees which are first changing their colours and then they lose their complete foliage. It is tempting to interpret Autumn as a loss: loss of Summer, loss of warmth, loss of holidays. However, if we think like this, Autumn becomes a negative season which is not allowed to have its own identity. The challenge of Autumn is that it can help us grow in wisdom and to discover new insights. It is good to go for long Autumn walks, and to inhale the ancient scents of transitions.

Just as a tree has to let go of its leaves, people also have to let go. This "letting go" can hurt. We may have to let go of close relatives or friends, we may have to let go of a country, place, house or job that we like. We may have to let go of our juvenility or health. A loss always touches our self-awareness and our self-image. Autumn storms can totally shake us. What we can learn from the trees is that the leaves are not their entire identity. Leaves are important and nice, but they have to come and go. Much in our lives is important and nice, but has to come and go. What remains of a tree are its branches, trunk and roots, which are filled with stamina. In Autumn every tree asks us: And you, human being, what gives you stamina?"

Enjoy what's left of the beautiful autumn leaves,

The One Year Mark

Ryan and I and the windmills

Tomorrow, on October 18th, we hit the one year mark living abroad. Can you believe it? The expression "time flies" holds true. How the past year has flown and there is much for me to digest and reflect on. I remember the day well back in January 2011 when Ryan asked what I thought about moving to The Netherlands for a few years. He took me out to dinner to discuss what could be one of the biggest decisions we'd made in our then 9 years together. Without much hesitation, I responded positively thinking of what an amazing experience this would be, and, if we could truly make this happen, how privileged we'd be to live in another part of the world, even for just a little while. I really surprised myself. After all, I am not one to step far out of my comfort zone. I traded in my fear for something new and unknown and have been richly rewarded because of it.

Reflecting over the past year, I know that much has happened. I have grown in many different ways, sometimes without fully being aware, and I have learned a great deal about myself. When I left Seattle, my worst fear was that I would not be able to make new friends. Luckily my fears never came to fruition. I have met some amazing and wonderful people since moving to Holland. Many are expats just like ourselves coming from all parts of the globe, but we've also made a few Dutch friends(including my new Dutch BFF - she knows who she is). They have been my lifeboats in sometimes choppy waters.

Remarkably, I found work quickly and in an international setting which has broadened my horizons and enhanced my ability to understand other cultures and beliefs. I, too, have had the opportunity to write for the English speaking newspaper in The Hague which has heightened my skills and my love for writing has been rekindled, and perhaps one day I will be able to call myself an author! I cannot speak as highly of my Dutch language abilities, however. It's a tough language, let's be honest, but Ryan just loves demonstrating the new phrases and words he learns. He is definitely a natural!

Living away from family and friends is never easy. In fact, there are days when my mind daydreams about being back home in beautiful, oh so familiar Seattle. My mom and I talk every Sunday evening (my time zone) and she has often told me that there is a reason I am over here and not to forget that or let the experience slip away. It will someday come to an end and I will back in the U.S. I must live every day as best I can with open arms with what God gives!

I have almost finished reading a lovely little gem titled Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. She was the wife of Charles Lindbergh, the first man to make a non-stop solo flight from New York across the Atlantic ocean. I have read this book slowly, savouring the small seeds of wisdom she imparts. Anne writes about the beach and the sea, intertwining it with the every day experiences of life (a perfect summer selection). Amidst the language of the tides and seashells, I have found what she describes very profound.

"One never knows what chance treasures these easy unconscious rollers may toss up, on the smooth white sand of the conscious mind; what perfectly rounded stone, what rare shell from the ocean floor. Perhaps a channelled whelk, a moon shell, or even an argonaut. But it must not be sought for or- heaven for bid!-dug for. No, no dredging of the sea-bottom here. That would defeat one's purpose. The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea."

Beautifully written and amazingly true. If I ever doubt the life and the adventures I have been given, I am losing out on what I need to be taught. I should not be anxious or impatient, but lie open as an endless beach because it is here where God himself will give me what is most sought after in my heart - peace, joy and the love he has burned in my heart for others. Sometimes, it is being taken out of one's comfort zone to come to this deep and profound understanding.

I have never thought of myself as very brave. Yet on this first anniversary of living far from those we love and where I call home, I think I am brave. I have taken that leap of faith as Kierkegaard spoke of and trust that everything we encounter has a reason behind it and will someday be fully understood. We do not know how long we'll live in Holland (I know my mom is counting down the days) but for now, the outstretched journey ahead is not so daunting. It has been a good year with much discovery. I look forward to all that comes our way in the times ahead; To exploring new places, being open to new sands of the mind and to the abundance of which live brings!

As Frank Sinatra's famous song goes, "The Best is Yet to Come!"

Love always. XOXO,

Berlin Part I

I have been to a number of cities in Germany, but have always been intrigued by Berlin and its eventful history. A friend back from my university days, Mandi, lives there and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to combine a long weekend seeing a new place with catching up with someone I haven't seen in over ten years. After adding up the costs, we decided driving would be the most economical. Ryan estimated a six hour drive - it's the Autobahn afterall - but it ended up taking us over seven with the amount of traffic and slow downs due to heavy amounts of construction. We did get up to120 mph though as BMWs and fancy Mercedes flew past!

Once we arrived, I knew immediately that I was going to love this city. We rented a cute apartment in the eastern part of Berlin, which is known for its bohemian, artsy feel. We parked the car (free street parking - undheard of in Holland), threw down our bags, and went out into the warm evening to explore our new surroundings. A street in our neighborhood was lined with bars and restaurants, and we found a nice place to sit outside and people watch while enjoying a proper half-liter sized German weiss bier. Ryan was in heaven!

Berlin is enormous; much larger than I realized. In traditional Taylor style, we like to take in as much as we possibly can when visiting a new place. This means walking miles upon miles (or kilometres over here). The next morning we made our way through the sheets of pouring rain and hopped on the S-Bahn to the Reichstag, which was on the top of my list. After being given clearance inside, we climbed the glass dome that offered an amazing 360-degree view of the city below. If you know your history, the Reichstag was set on fire in 1933 and was heavily damaged during WWII air raids. The dome was reconstructed in all glass to represent the transparency of government after the reunification of Germany in 1990.

After grabbing a fresh, homemade pretzel, we walked to the famous Brandenburg Gate. Although I was quite young, I still remember Reagan's visit to West Berlin in 1987 where he delivered his famous speech with the Brandenburg Gate and the Berlin Wall behind him telling Mikhail Gorbachev to "Tear down this wall!" To me this gate is a symbol of freedom. As I walked through the enormous gate I wondered what it must have been like with a wall that literally cut the city in half.

Nearby is the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. It is a maze of stone slabs that seem to stretch out endlessly. As we entered the maze, the slabs grew taller, the only light streaming from the sun above. Although the architect stated there was no symbolism to his design, I felt like I was amidst thousands of tombstones. In the information center beneath are the names of all known Jews who died in the Holocaust.

We then followed the double bricks through the city which replicate where the Berlin Wall stood. The bricks twisted and turned through the city, until we found ourselves at Potsdamer Platz where remnants of the former Berlin Wall were on display. We had a few hours before our dinner plans, so we crossed the city (yes more walking!) and took in the Jewish History Museum. If you ever make it to Berlin, I highly recommend that you visit this musuem. It gives an extremely comprehensive overview of Jewish-German history and the architectural design of the building is phenomenal. My favourite was the Garden of Exile where wild olive trees grew out of stone pillars.

After enjoying dinner at a cozy restaurant with Mandi and her boyfriend, we headed over to a beer festival where we sampled some fantastic German beers. What a city with so much history. I couldn't roll it all into one post so Part II is coming...

Reichstag - Parliament building

View inside the glass dome

The infamous Brandenburg Gate

Piece of the Berlin wall

Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

Pebbles placed on Jewish memorial to honor the deceased

 

Checkpoint Charlie



More to come,

Postcards from Maastricht

It's summertime (although  you'd barely know it with the weather we're having) and with the time that is left, we've decided to see more of what the Netherlands has to offer. The city of Maastricht has been on our list for awhile, and when a few friends invited us to to drive down with them, we jumped at the chance. Maastrict is called the crown jewel of the south (it borders Belgium and Germany), and I can definitely see why. Unlike many Dutch cities that have a familiar look about them, this medevial town has an entirely different feel to it. It is one of the oldest cities in the Netherlands and was occupied by the Romas some 2,000 years ago. The city was then passed between The Franks (Germanic tribes), the Kingdom of Burgandy and the Spainards, until 1632, when Maastricht came back under Dutch rule. All of these changing cultures have greatly influenced the architecture and overall ambience of this wonderful city.

Since the southern region of Limburg is one of the only remaining Catholic areas of the country,
we were able to arrange a special visit with some religious sisters living in a convenant in the heart of Maastricht, who belong to the order of the Sisters of Charity of St. Charles Borromeo. Immediately we made a connection with them and shared a long lunch with heart-filled conversation. I was especially touched by one of the Sisters from Indonesia who shared with me her conversion to Catholicism and her calling to religious life. She converted for a boy, but was soon overcome by a love for the poor and wanted to serve them with all of her heart. Her family could not understand why she had to leave behind her former life. It was because of Jesus she said! Wow! I was overcome with emotion and shared my own faith journey with her. She is definitely a kindred spirit.

After leaving the convent several of the Sisters accompanied us to a nearby museum which housed holy objects, relics of saints and other ancient religious art. We then meandered through the cobblestone alleyways taking in the many church spires and old buildings until we found the Catholic Basilica of Our Lady. This Romanesque parish houses a famous shrine to Our Lady Star of the Sea also known as the "Stella Maris." This title was given to the Virgin Mary by seafarers who viewed her as a protector of those whose livelihood depend on the sea. After taking our time in the church, we walked across the city until we reached the bank of the Maas River with a picturesque view of the Maas bridge in the distance, the oldest in the Netherlands built by the Romans in ages past. We crossed the bridge and accessed the other side of the city where we were able to view the old fortifications built to defend the city in the 16th century.

We finished our day sitting under a big umbrella at a cafe in the infamous Vrijhof Square enjoying a bowl of soup and a refreshing beer. Afterwards, we returned to the convent to gather our personal items where we found the Sisters having a communal dinner together. They wished us a safe journey home and stood in the rain waving at us until our car had disappeard over the hill. Here are some of my "postcards" from Maastricht. Mine would read: "Dear Sisters, Thank you for a lovely visit and tour of your convent. Your hospitality and joy will stay with me long after our time together. I hope to come again and spend some time in quiet reflection and prayer with you. Blessings!"

Onder de Bogen - Convent of the Sisters of Charity of St. Charles Borromeo

Statue of St. Charles Borromeo

"That the name of God be glorified"

Basilica of Saint Servatius

Vrijhof Square in the sun

Shrine to Our Lady Star of the Sea

Basilica of Our Lady

 

Maas River with the oldest bridge in The Netherlands built by the Romans

I need to familiarize myself with this Saint!