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.