May

A Lesson in Living and Loving – An Icelandic Adventure

From April 16 through April 24 I was in Iceland on what would be best described as a solo woman’s retreat. I’d been dying to get out of New York for a year, just go some place quiet with a whole lot less people and a whole lot more nature. I needed to be reminded that there are things bigger than me, than my dreams and failings, than New York itself. I actually didn’t see Iceland as an option at first. I kind of saw it as an amazing place I could only go to in ten years or something. But when I actually looked, I saw it was more accessible than I allowed myself to believe (oh, the power of not making assumptions).

Iceland was breathtaking. I stayed in Reykjavik and did a few tours: the Viking Horse and Golden Circle, whale watching, the South Coast and Jokursarlon Glacial Lagoon and the Blue Lagoon. One of the best things about the trip was that I gave myself permission to be myself: no insane expectations, no strict personal rules, just me having grace with myself. It was great to see what a little love, appreciation and grace can do.

On my second day in Iceland, I went horseback riding. The Icelandic horse is a fascinating animal. My horse was Long Nose (I know how to say it in Icelandic, but have no idea how to write it). He was beautiful, a great horse, but a wee bit stubborn. He liked riding a little too close to the edge of sloped roads. At least too close for my tastes. It didn’t bother me at first, but then some of the horses would get too close to each other and once one started to trot, the others would follow and that led to overcrowding and pushing. It wasn’t anything super dangerous, but I wasn’t comfortable with it. So I’d steer Long Nose away from the edge or just slow him down. He wasn’t having it the first few times I tried to steer him. But I wasn’t having it either. So I persisted in steering him away from the edge and then he started to listen. After a while, it dawned on me that I’d grown. Two years ago, I would have given up and let that horse do whatever it wanted. But instead, I made my comfort level a priority and gave consideration to my instincts. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere in the last few months, I’d gotten confident and now riding through the Icelandic countryside, I could clearly see that confidence. I literally sat up straighter in my saddle and smiled. During the course of the ride, there were a few more stubborn moments with Long Nose and there were a handful of times that he did get his way (I’m copping it up to the fact that he is a Viking Horse). But he was still a great horse and I really wouldn’t have wanted any other horse but him.

My horse, Long Nose.

During the course of the trip, I allowed myself to be loved by the people I came across. I met an Australian woman, Julie, during the Viking Horse and Golden Circle tour; I met Anna-Maija and Stefan, a Finnish pastoral couple, and Emma, their Icelandic friend, while whale watching; and I met Jan and Anna and their husbands Paul and Richard at the Blue Lagoon. Every one of these amazing people showed me love by simply talking with me and including me. We talked about our families, our respective trips and just life in general. Even though I didn’t need their company and they didn’t need mine, they reached out to me solely because that’s what they wanted to do. I had nothing to bring to the table except myself and that was enough. It was nice to be reminded that as human beings we are all more than what we bring to the table. We are enough, even when other people treat us like a means to an end for their own personal agenda and even when we don’t believe it or see it. I may never see any of them again, but I am incredibly thankful to God for letting me meet them. They all, in their own beautifully simple way, made my trip that much better.

Anna-Majia, Stefan, Emma and me.

There were so many moments that I got to enjoy solely because I let go. Like taking in the view of Reykjavik from Perlan, eating an amazing meal at 3 Frakkar, buying a graphic novel from Nexus and just walking to the Old Harbour. I allowed myself to let my jaw drop and gasp audibly when I walked into Hallgrimskirkja and saw their organ. I was in awe and I wasn’t afraid to show it. I wore a swimsuit without swim shorts to the Blue Lagoon (a huge deal for me because as an adult, I’ve only worn swimsuits with swim shorts, not because I don’t like my body, but because I’m just super conscious of it). At the Blue Lagoon, I tebowed underwater because the water was shallow enough and because I could. In the steam bath, I stretched my hands and feet towards the rising steam so my fingers and toes could feel the heat better and I stared at the dewy moisture from the steam that had rested on the hairs on my arms. I did this in the presence of other people and I didn’t care if they thought I was weird or not. I had a moment to enjoy and I wasn’t going to let it slip away.

The organ at Hallgrimskirkja

So much more happened during that trip and it would take forever to fully detail it all. So I’ll end on two things: I was listening to my iPod on the way back to Reykjavik from the South Coast and Jokurlsarlon Glacial Lagoon tour when Beyonce’s “I Was Here” came on. As of that time, I’d seen an active geysir, a volcanic crater, four waterfalls and five humpback whales. I’d ridden an Icelandic horse, a horse so unique and specific to the country that interbreeding isn’t allowed and once one leaves Iceland, it can never come back. I’d ridden on a boat through a glacial lagoon and left my footprints on black sand at the beach in Vik. I’d also had several cups of great hot chocolate and eaten amazing food. I was so content to be where I was and so grateful that I was able to make the trip. And then on cue, Beyonce’s voice came: “I was here. I lived, I loved. I was here. I did, I’ve done everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be”. And I smiled because I couldn’t have said it any better. I got an opportunity to live a little and to love myself during my trip and I wouldn’t trade it for the world..

The second thing I’d like to end on is a short video I’d like to share. It’s of footage I shot during my trip. I have to warn you, even though I’m an adequate director, I’m no cinematographer or editor, but I still hope you enjoy the video nonetheless. It’s the closest thing I could think of to bringing everyone on the trip with me while still having me time =D

Photos from the trip:

Street art made of mirrors in the shape of Iceland

At Jokurlsarlon

Skogafoss Waterfall

Gulfoss waterfall

At Vik

My footprints in the sand at Vik

View from the Old Harbour

The Leif Eriksson statue

Reykjavik

Me at the end of the trip at The Blue Lagoon

12 years ago Short URL 4 Comments

Adventure/Fun/Iceland/Learning/Self Discovery/Single/Travel/Uncategorized

adventure/Iceland/self discovery/single/travel

Feb

Big is Beautfiful or A Night at The Metropolitan Opera

I’ve always wanted to go on a date to The Metropolitan Opera. It’s like the Lincoln Center was made for falling hopelessly in love. Alas, there is no man in sight at the moment, but thankfully that doesn’t put the kibosh on me going to an opera and having a wonderful time. I went last night to see Aida with two fabulous and foxy friends, Ekene and Hanna, and I even donned a bow-tie (which I tied all by myself, thank you very much).

Now permit me to go on a little tangent (I promise it’ll all make sense. At least partially). Coming from a film background, I’ve learned that less is more, subtlety is key and big is rarely ever better. Some of my favourite moments in film consist of small moments. I watch the BBC’s 2007 version of Persuasion at least once a month because Sally Hawkins’ Anne Elliot manages to tell you everything she’s feeling with one upward glance. And watching Gary Oldman in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy was bananas. There’s a scene early on in the film, when his character, George Smiley, gets a bombshell dropped on him. You don’t see the reaction in his face but in the back of his head. Tension rises to his neck as he turns slowly and stiffly to his boss. You can he’s stunned and is trying desperately to compose himself from the back of his head. If that’s not skill, I don’t know what is.

Why on earth am I going into this? Because I really wasn’t sure I’d like Aida. I know I’m a pretty cultured person and I love music. But the thing is opera is all about being big and I wasn’t sure I’d truly love the big-ness of it all.

Yes, opera is big. Especially Aida. From where we were seated in the Family Circle (aka the nosebleed section), we could see the grandeur of the set pieces and most of the details on the costumes. There were horses – legit, very much alive horses on stage – and some of the most magnificent dancers I’ve ever seen. We couldn’t see the actors’ faces in great detail, but it was absolutely fine. All the subtlety and nuances were in the performer’s voices and the music and that’s all we needed. You can hear how torn Aida is between the love of her home country and the love of the man who has become her home. You can hear the jealousy and pride in Amneris’ voice and the loyalty and love in Ramades’. You hear so much in the music: reverential awe, desperation, hatred, valour, repentance. And it was all big and it was all beautiful and I not only appreciated it, I loved every second of it. You cannot hear the performers’ voices without being amazed by the fact that someone can make you feel so much with their voice even though they’re singing in a language you don’t understand.

I still don’t know what my favourite part was, but the most memorable moment for me came at the end. Aida and Ramades sing their last song, a song about heaven and freedom, and there’s a point where they pause and the orchestra keeps playing. I recall hearing two wind instruments (the flute and the oboe, I think). I have no idea what notes they played and I cannot describe it to you, but all I know is that it made my heart flutter. No man, none of the many men I’ve fancied, not Michael Fassbender, not Idris Elba, has gotten my heart to flutter like that. The singers, the musicians, the director, hell, the stage hands had me in the palm of their hands by coming together and creating this big and beautiful piece. And in that moment I was so happy I took the opportunity to go on that day, to that opera with two fantastic friends. I was totally and utterly captivated and I realized I haven’t felt like that in a really long time. It was nice to know that being an adult hasn’t totally hardened me and that there’s still a bit of childlike wonder in me. But most of all, I was happy that I didn’t wait for a man to ask me out on a date to the opera. Taking me to the opera may not be on any guy’s to-do list and if I had waited for that to happen, I may very well have missed out on a truly breathtaking experience.

Aida

Hanna and Ekene

Intermission Mayhem

BOW TIE!!

Partial view from the Family Circle

12 years ago Short URL 3 Comments

Adventure/Learning/Opera/Self Discovery/Single/Uncategorized

adventure/aida/date/learning/lincoln center/opera/self discovery/single/the metropolitan opera

Feb

Get Your Legolas On!

Yesterday I tried out archery for the second time. The first time was at camp and I was fifteen. It did not go well. The long and short was that I was very much a perfectionist and hated not being good at something I thought was cool even if it was my first try. The back of my throat burned all through that lesson as I tried to hold back tears.

So my friend Clarissa and I planned to venture to Proline Archery Lane in Ozone Park. I had no idea what to expect. I got there before Clarissa and these are pretty much the first things I saw:

And these are the regulars:

I immediately texted Clarissa: “We are about to integrate this place.” Needless to say, I felt super out of place and intimidated. As I waited for her, I tried to not flash back to the summer of 2003 in the midst of men that could probably shoot down a bear with a bow and arrow, blindfolded, in a fog, in the world’s thickest forest.

Neil, who works at Proline (I think he’s the owner, but don’t quote me), was our teacher for the night. They were about five of us taking lessons and he made everyone feel at ease and capable. Plus, the guys that scared the crap out of me, were really great at giving us pointers. Unfortunately, there were a few time my fifteen-year-old self showed up because I didn’t get things perfectly. But each time I felt frustration and self-deprecation rising in me, I chose to take a step back, relax and remind myself that taking this class wasn’t about being perfect, it was about learning and having a kick ass time with Clarissa. And even if I monumentally sucked at archery, it in now way defined me. It just meant I wasn’t meant to be an elf in Lord of the Rings.

I did okay. There were a few times my arrows hit Clarissa’s bull’s eye instead of mine, but I soon figured out why and corrected it. I may not be Legolas, but I’ll definitely be going back for more lessons. Fifteen-year-old Miriam, sweet as she is, will be sitting it out.