Wendy Karasin – Musings of a Boomer

My yoga class (and an early morning phone call) caused me not only to blog late, but preempted my original writing material; my Paris trip.

I have not gone to a yoga class since mid August when I ripped two muscles in my left (dominant) arm during my second anti-gravity class. Luckily for me the rips were minor and did not require surgery, only physical therapy. They did however, ground me for months. Continue reading →

Upon further reflection, and with the assistance of some badly needed sleep, I realized that yesterday’s post was more like Day Two of the trip than Day One. No worries, the experiential component far outweighs the chronological, and so, as the saying goes; It’s all good.

Disclaimer: I may on occasion return to rewrite a passage due to an unintended, important omission or an egregious timeline error.

Now back to our present muse – London, England. Obviously we passed by and glanced at, Big Ben – what proper trip to London would allow otherwise? If not for the sheer joy of seeing this iconic structure then, at the very least, to adjust our watches. We saw St Paul’s Cathedral, a show of both opulence and architectural genius. A lesser show of genius would be my inability to figure out how to rotate the photo below. I’m not giving up however, if I can’t change it here, perhaps I can elsewhere. My children teach me (after I taught them, they are returning the favor) not to give up. I shall return… Continue reading →

I read a post this morning – alas, I am still getting up at 4 am – about a young writer who began blogging, got involved with a group on Twitter, and they are about to publish an anthology. She’s realizing her dream as a writer through and with people she has met only on the internet! Life is quite something.

Now…back to Europe. London was impressive with its castles, royalty, and pomp and circumstance (think Buckingham Palace’s changing of the guards). FYI, the police, also known as bobbies, now carry guns! We arrive at The Dorchester early morning, after surviving the equivalent of the red eye. The English love flowers and the lobby welcomes us with a profusion of pink and white roses and lilies. Somehow,

on very little sleep but much exaltation (the result of the flowers’ beauty and fragrance or perhaps just being abroad) we muster the strength to wander the town. We pass the palace as we walk to Westminster Abbey, a magnificent structure, and the Churchill Museum, a place of pure history, where, how and with whom is depicted England’s part in ending World War ll. We saunter past Trafalgar Square (and I am reminded of an old folk song I sang as a child), and go into the National Gallery, that beckons the unsuspecting with an enormous sculpting of an electric blue rooster. I have no idea…there’s no explaining art but there’s no ignoring it either. 

After lunch in a small bistro, some coffee as a late afternoon pick me up, and hours upon hours of walking the pleasant streets of London, it is evening. I’m sure we had dinner, although the specifics of where and what escape me. I remember little of that day after the blue rooster. I know we settled into a comfy bed and slept a deep sleep, as the ‘morrow was expectant with new adventure. To be continued…

I have returned. Did you miss me? The question is rhetorical but I’ve missed you! It has been one day short of two weeks since my last blog post. I took a trip to London and Paris deciding to take my own mindfulness post to heart by really being in the moment; with the day, the town, and the people. No telephone, text messaging, or blogging. I have all intentions of telling you about my experiences and the fantastic sights I saw in each of these historically laden cities – but today I am going to keep it short.

There are mounds of mail to get through, bills to pay, a house to clean – to say nothing of getting into the swing of life back home. I’m feeling a wee bit tired and overwhelmed, but taking one task on at a time, reminding myself (often) that what needs to get done, will. A step at a time. And today, my first full day home, I wanted to reach out, tell you I’m back, and work my way into a life style I have been away from for 11 days.

The time difference has left me jet lagged, as 4am U.S time, feels like 10am Paris time. I suspect it will take a few days to readjust because there is one thing I can assure you of, I have never before written a blog post at 5am! A lot of firsts which at this point in my life is pretty refreshing. It’s easy to get into comfortable and familiar routines which can be efficient but less useful and even dangerous if we cannot remain conscious during them.

The last (and only other) time I was in Paris – I was 19 years old. I traveled during the summer break with a backpack and two girlfriends. This recent experience was no less awe inspiring, albeit for a lesser period of time and with no youth hostiles in sight. The days have been filled with city sights, indigenous people, a dinner with friends, and the living of life outside my usual parameters. I intend to download and share my pictures and get myself reunited with the ordinary life I know and love. The journey beckons, but the every day sustains.