Lessons Learned

A friend asked me recently (via Yahoo chat, one of my new ways to spend time catching up with people across the ocean) what I had learned during my time here in France. He asked because he had also taken a year off, a sabbatical he called it, and it had been a time for him to discover what it was that he really wanted to do with his life.

There is a tradition for ministers and academics to take sabbaticals, giving them time for reflection, research and writing, which are valued (and demanded, often) by the institutions that grant them that time off. For those other random folks like me that plan for and take a year off (forced unemployment is not the same thing, presumably unexpected and therefore anxiety-producing) the time for reflection often leads to a revised approach to one’s life – at least that’s what I had heard from those who had taken the time.

What have I learned about myself? It was not too hard to come up with some answers for my friend. I have spent much time thinking and reflecting on my life over the past eight months. I have also spent time talking with my friend Cynthia, who is trained as a “Life Coach.” She has been encouraging me to ask myself, What is my mission in life? For a religious person, this is not an uncomfortable question to ask. But it’s not always easy to answer.

There are plenty of things that I have known about myself that have been simply reinforced here. But I am still learning things about myself at 46 (almost 47!), which I have to think is a good thing. And I have been in relationships this year that have tested my ideas about what it is I want in my future, and challenged me to think about life differently.

My life reflection here has been a journey, and just when I think I have answers one day, the next day may bring a whole other perspective.

So here are some things I have learned about myself, including the spiritual, the personal, and the professional. With some detail, as appropriate, and in no particular order:

I love the ocean. As a small child, I spent summer days on Long Island Sound, but at age 7 I started going to summer camps, and experienced water in small and large lakes for the next 12 years. My two college summers working on an island off the coast of New Hampshire reacquainted me with the ocean, and it’s been a continuing love affair ever since. My summers with my friends in a beach house at Rehoboth, Delaware were idyllic for me, even if I had learned by that age that I cannot spend too much time in the sun. Spending hours on the beach in Nice has been a joy, and by now I know that 20 SPF is not too much protection! And it doesn’t matter to me what time of year it is, which I already knew, because our family Thanksgivings at my aunt and uncle’s beach house in Bethany Beach, Delaware have been times of pure joy of being near the ocean.

I need to be around people. I knew this, but I have had the opportunity to do more observing of myself and others, and spend time thinking about what makes me tick. This has implications for me, as it is helpful to know that I shouldn’t be starting a business that I would be doing alone at home. Having an EBay business would not be my choice. That wouldn’t make me happy. The fact that I have worked in large corporations or organizations throughout my professional career – and stayed happy there – is a good indicator.

I feel better when I am contributing to society in some way. I have missed not being part of the action during the financial crisis. I loved working at the Securities and Exchange Commission as a young lawyer; I felt I was truly part of the mission of protecting the public investor. I enjoyed being a consultant working at some of the largest investment banks in the US, and feeling like I was contributing to making their businesses more efficient, or better, or at least more compliant with the nation’s securities laws.

I am a good friend.

I love to entertain. Ask the folks who have visited me here in Nice this year. (Or those who attended my Winter Solstice Parties over the past four years.)

I love to push myself. When I was invited to join the track team in college, I had no idea how competitive I was. I learned pretty quickly – it was barely six months later that I first collapsed on a cross country course from heat exhaustion. (It was not the last time, unfortunately, but I have learned that lesson!) I have continued to enter road races since college, and have loved in my 40’s to still be running fast, fast enough to win an occasional small town race. One of my goals here in France was to run races – and train to go faster. I prefer to train alone, and it takes a pretty strong wish to excel to push yourself to the point of exhaustion – but my persistence was rewarded with some fast 10km races over the past six months – and my fastest to date on April 19th at the Nice Semi-Marathon.

I love a challenge. Moving to France was one of the biggest challenges I’ve taken on in a long time. I had lots of good guidance, but at the end of the day, I was the one who found an apartment, who learned how to read labels on the different foods in the supermarket, who had to deal with my banker and my lost credit card, who found a church and the opportunity to sing, and figured out the public transportation system so I could get myself to races in Grasse and Monaco (outside of Nice).

Money is important, but not the most important thing in the world. Making money was (almost) the most important thing to me over the past twenty years or so. I lived with a man for ten years who didn’t make that much money, but who made sure I was working all the time (not exactly positive reinforcement). Being relaxed about not working, and realizing that you only need to make a lot of money if you spend a lot of money, has taken me some time. Knowing how to budget, and assiduously tracking every single euro and dollar I have spent here, has kept me sane (though I know those particular activities would drive some people crazy). Having a safety net of people who love you and can help care for you is priceless.

When he doesn’t call, it really does mean he isn’t into you. Enough said.

It is possible to live in the moment – but it never hurts to plan.

Hard work brings rewards. Although I have had to learn to relax about the fact that I am not presently a wage earner, the entire reason I have been able to spend a year here in France is because of that manic attention to my work life. Being a good saver helps too.

I have an enormous circle of friends, loosely defined, but I still call them my friends. This year I’ve had the luxury of being able to spend time on social networking sites, including Linked In, to keep in touch with my professional contacts (helpful when you are going to be looking for a job soon), and Facebook (thanks to my friend Willard, who encouraged me to join), through which I’ve connected to a whole group of high school friends that I had lost touch with over the past 25 years. The opportunity to chat real time with these folks, and to keep them up with my life through pictures and random comments, has been wonderful. I continue to be amazed at how big my circle is – but after attending four schools and working in consulting for 10 years, and being constantly involved in organizations, you realize how small the world really is. And realize how the Internet has changed things, like keeping in touch with people, forever.

A glass of wine every day is good for your health. The French and Italians know this from centuries of eating and drinking and being healthy. There just are very few really fat people in these countries. And they don’t over-drink either. Another good lesson.

You need to be open to, and provide the opportunity for, good things to happen to you. One of the joys I have had here in Nice is becoming part of the Choeur Gospel, a lovely small group of singers associated with the Eglise Reformee. I began attending the church in September, and it was in October that the woman who sat in front of me turned around and told me she wanted me to join the choir. I'd been looking around for a chorus, but if I hadn't been sitting there in that church, and singing behind Odette, I might not have had this great group of French friends.

I don’t need much to live on – things are not that important to me. I am living in a furnished apartment in Nice. What I brought with me from the States is a fairly short list: a set of sharp knives, a wine bottle opener (gift from my brother), two coffee mugs (a Goldman Sachs travel mug, and one from Barnard), a bunch of family pictures to have reminders of them around the apartment, my clarinet (a late retrieval from my storage unit in DC), and my computer. I haven’t bought much here either: a cookie sheet and spatula to make cookies, a hair dryer, and towels, linens and a new pillow for the apartment (it did not come with bedclothes or towels). Of the things I have considered but not bought: a printer, saving the world more needless paper production, and a bicycle – although it would have been fun to explore the area on two wheels, I just haven’t found the one I wanted at the price I was ready to pay.

I love to travel. Surprise.

Easter Week in France

Two years ago, I treated my sister to five days in Italy - an April birthday present that enabled her to spend some time with her daughter Chelsea, who was attending high school outside of Rome that year. We flew into Rome on Maundy Thursday morning and left on Easter Monday, driving first north to Bologna, then the next day, west to Genoa, and then back south through Tuscany to Florence, finishing back in Rome. It was a great trip (good bed and breakfast experiences, great pasta and wine dinners, and lots of walking); one of the highlights was experiencing Easter Sunday in Florence (Firenze) in the Piazza de Duomo (the plaza in front of the grand cathedral in Florence). The Easter Sunday service took place in the Duomo (of which we caught a few minutes), and afterwards, there was a fantastic fireworks display in the plaza, followed by a parade of all the participants in the service as they left the church. It was my first and exuberant taste of an European Easter, with its ubiquitous chocolates and religious pageantry.

My first Easter in France was a reliving of some of the pageantry and chocolates, but with a new and unexpected experience along the way. Easter week begins with Palm Sunday, and that day I found myself conducting my choir, the Choeur Gospel, in the service at the L’Église Réformée! This was not on my radar screen even five days before - for just at choir rehearsal on the Wednesday evening prior, we learned that our participation had been requested in the Palm Sunday service. As my blog readers might imagine, this did not phase the group much, as we had just performed a concert two weeks before on March 21st. But when the group learned that the conductor was not going to be able to be at the church service, they momentarily panicked. But Gottfried, bless his heart, turned and pointed to me - I would be his substitute for Sunday's performance! Although it made perfect sense for him to ask me (well, he didn't really ask me, but, whatever), as I was the only musically-trained singer in the group, nonetheless, I was flattered and humbled. And suddenly nervous.

My friends in the chorus were completely at ease with Gottfried's decision, but they were a little nervous too, and insisted that Gottfried let me practice leading them in the songs we rehearsed that night. And he coached me too, which was helpful. But it was remarkably easy, once I remembered how to conduct (I had taken conducting lessons in my musical past, and conducted my a cappella group, the Bacchantae, for two years in college). But I went home that night determined to practice, and get it right for Sunday. Luckily I had already memorized most of the songs we were going to sing, so it was a matter of getting my hand and voice in sync so that I would be leading, not confusing, the singers! I walked around Nice over the next few days, conducting and singing to myself the songs for Sunday...

Sunday morning I arrived at the church early, and found the woman pastor in the Nave, preparing for the service. We had been alerted that this would be a service involving the children, similar to the service the Sunday before Christmas when we had last performed. I introduced myself to her as the subsitute for Gottfried, so she walked me through the service program and showed me the three points during the service that we were being asked to perform. All of a sudden I had to do some programming; fitting in the pieces we were going to sing in the right places during the service. In the end, with approval from my singers, we sang "Jacob's Ladder" and "All Over the World" after the processing of the Palms, then "Lord, You are the Light" after the sermon, and then "Heaven is a Beautiful Place" and "The Blessing of Aaron (Seven-fold Amen)" at the end of the service. We had enough time to rehearse before the service, and everyone was up for the day - it all worked really well. "All Over the World" is a foot-thumping kind of piece, and I had the crowd clapping during the song, which helped keep the children, who were clustered at our feet as we stood singing at the front of the church, engaged.

Before the service began, I realized I had my camera in my knapsack with me, so I took some pictures during the service, but then thought it would be great to have some pictures of me conducting too. I saw my friend Suzanne on the other side of the church, and I knew that she would be great about taking some photos if I asked her. So in the middle of the service (at an appropriate break), I walked around to her pew and handed her the camera and asked her if she would be so kind to take some photos. As I thought she would be, she said yes with no questions. Yet another moment in time where I was feeling surrounded by friends! And later, after the service, I discovered happily that my friend Priscilla had accepted my invitation to come hear the group, and was sitting in the service without my knowing it that morning. Surrounded by friends that morning, that I was!

That Palm Sunday Service at L’Église Réformée did not really qualify for pageantry; I found pageantry at the Cathédral Sainte Réparate in the Old Town (Vielle Ville) on Holy Thursday. I like to participate in the Catholic services sometimes for high Holy Days; I went to the Cathédral for the "Office de la Dernière Cène," the office (mass) that celebrates the Last Supper, also known as the Service of Light, as at the end of the service all the lights are extinguished except for one, the one that burns as a reminder of Christ's love. The St. Réparate cathedral is quite lovely, a several hundred year old building, I'm sure, and the Maȋtrise de la Cathédrale and his equipe (worship team) were all dressed up in lovely long gold-brocaded robes for the occasion. They even performed the ritual foot washing, albeit a bit staged: 8 people had been designated to sit on stools up near the communion table and have their feet washed by the Maȋtrise himself, while the rest of us watched. The Communion Service is also very ritualistic, and the chanting was punctuated by the clanging of bells, which has some significance of which I am unfamiliar. (Priscilla and I had heard a lovely and moving polyphonic arrangement of the service performed by a choir back in September, when we had attended the Rencontres Polyphonique in Calvi, Corsica.) There was quite a bit of music during the service, performed by a choir that was not dressed up for the occasion (but then the Catholics tend not to be dresser-uppers for their masses). The singing was ragged, although the conductor was doing his best to keep them all together, but the average age of his singer was roughly 60, and my guess, they were all untrained. The thought occurred to me to walk up to the conductor and ask if I could join in (it would have helped).

My encounter with chocolates came about in a more mundane way - on Monday, when I entered Carrefour, the huge superstore I shop in these days, I was confronted by an enormous display of chocolate bunnies. Well, that's what struck me, but once I started walking down the aisle, the Easter chocolate theme carried on for as long as the eye could see. I took out my camera and took some photos - there was just such an abundance! On my way home from Carrefour, I passed by a local artisan chocolatier's store, around the corner from my apartment, and took pictures of his front window - beautiful baskets of chocolates decorated the front pane. I continued throughout the week to window gaze at Patisseries and Chocolatiers around town, the enormous displays of expensive (!) chocolates - rabbits, eggs, cakes, whatever - were beautiful and mouth-watering. I bought a few Lindt bunnies for my Easter Monday guests, Uli and Utta, but refrained from self-indulgence - the visual indulgence was plenty.

Easter Sunday this morning at my church was a more subdued affair than last week's service, but it was a full house - extraordinarily multi-cultural too - and we did lots of singing, which I always enjoy. Communion was served too, and the circle we make around the communion table today was as large as the church itself, and wound down the center aisle too. It was good to see my friends in church; I sat next to one of my fellow choristers and her daughter, and kissed greetings to several people after the service. In the courtyard, I saw an American I had met last week; he's studying French for a month in nearby Villefranche-sur-mer. Standing with him was another young woman, who it turns out is at the University of Nice on a semester abroad from the University of Maryland - she lives in Silver Spring. VERY small world! I'll have lunch next Sunday with John before he returns to Texas at the end of the month; Rebecca and I will meet for lunch after church on Mother's Day. I love expanding my circle of friends here.

Bon Pâques!

Obama in France

Can't miss the opportunity to let my US friends know that President Obama and the First Lady made a huge hit here in France today. They arrived in Strasbourg, in the northwest of France, on the German border, for the NATO meeting going on there. I don't know whether that meeting has been getting the coverage that the G20 meeting in London received, but there is a tent city set up outside of Strasbourg, housing the many thousands of protesters who descended on the town. There were many clashes with the police yesterday - these protesters are against French participation in NATO (although apparently polls show that most French are OK with it), against the wars, and many other things, I'm sure.

The Obamas were met in Strasbourg by President Sarkozy and his first lady, who was conspicuously absent in London. The papers tattled that Carla Bruni-Sarkozy was being nice and giving Michelle Obama the stage in London. For heaven's sake! The two of them, Michelle and Carla, made a striking pair in the pictures I saw - I noticed that Carla was wearing flats so that she wouldn't tower over her very short husband; Michelle has been keeping her heels pretty low too, but she still seemed to tower over Carla.

The crowds were going wild over President Obama's arrival in Strasbourg - it was fun to see the adoration again - the campaign in the US seems now sooooo long ago. Barack even got to do a "town hall-style" event in an stadium in Strasbourg - he and Michelle looked like they were enjoying themselves in the cheers from the crowd. Life in Washington has been a little strained lately, what with the financial crisis, the war in Afghanistan, health care reform, cabinet secretaries taking so long to get confirmed by the Senate... Nothing like adrenalin from a crowd to pick you up again.

Ah yes, good to be an American in Europe again!

Socialism's Impact on Culture

You wouldn't know it from the title of this post, but I'm going to write very favorably about my experiences of enjoying culture in France.

The culture of which I have been availing myself most here is the musical life around Nice. And a rich musical life it is. I have attended student concerts at the Conservatory of Nice, Philharmonic concerts in the city's opera house, chamber music concerts in government buildings and local churches, and orchestra performances outside the city, in nearby towns.

The opportunities to hear a wide range of music are just as plentiful as you would find in an American city of this size (650,000 population). But Nice is not Baltimore, and especially not the Baltimore that just lost its venerable opera company in the wake of the credit crisis. Because Nice is in a well-funded department in France, and the Conseil-Général of the Alpes-Maritimes (06) has resources to provide for the cultural life of the peoples living here. The Conseil-Général provides funding for musical groups and institutions around the city - I don't think I've been to any performance that hasn't had the logo for the government arm somewhere in the program or advertising.

And because of that funding, admission to concerts and events is frequently free, and rarely more than 20 euros. I have even found a movie theater in town that is supported by the Conseil-Général, with 2 euro admission for random, classic movies (enough of them in English with French subtitles to make it a fun find for me). I have paid 7 euros to sit in "paradis" - the highest balcony - in the Opera House (the orchestra tickets are in the 30 euro range); 10 euros for chamber music concerts, and attended a whole weekend of free classical performances (vocal, chamber, orchestral) in the city's performance/conference center. My local church even has had some wonderful chamber music performances (the last I heard was a performance of Bach's "Goldberg Variations" by a young and very talented pianist) for 10 euros. I can't think of a concert that I have attended in the US in the past five years that has cost less than 15 dollars. Even the cheap seats for the Cathedral Choral Society's Christmas Concerts in Washington, DC are 20 dollars.

I have no idea what the politics of being supported by the government so generously means to the musical society here in Nice; in America those involved with music generally wish there was more government support, but those who are not, wish there was less. And, of course, France is a much smaller place than the US. But for the concert-goer here in Nice, I have only good things to say about socialism. It's certainly enriched my musical life here.