writing

Anniversary

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“Like an ocean in between the waves . . .”

Exactly a year ago tomorrow, I was making my way to London, via Calgary, Edmonton, and Reykjavik.

From my journal: “Edmonton airport, glass of wine, here we go. Hardly seems real . . . Half an hour out of Iceland, 4:30 a.m., sun slivers, stars, clouds, distant pink. Wishing I could put this feeling in words.” I’m still not able to. Maybe this is why I’m an editor, not a novelist.

I had met two of my future roommates, for a few hours total, a year earlier. And I had freelance work lined up. Other than that, I had no idea what to expect. I leapt out of my mind’s stagnant water across an ocean to find . . . something.

The practice of yoga focuses on cultivating contentment in the present moment, wherever you happen to be. It’s an idea that guides my life, but yet, the need for a change of scenery has always been vital when I need to reset, get creative, feel inspired.

London quickly became home. We adapt quickly. This ability never ceases to fascinate me. I remind myself to be a tourist, to enjoy floating in the ocean while it’s still, before the waves rolls in. Because they will.

Windsor Castle Westminster

I think about my equal and constant desires: to build a home and “root” and to keep watching the sun rise somewhere new. Is it possible to have both? It’s thrilling to think so. A place to float, and a place to play, rushing forward, pulling back, in cycles.

Brighton

But the stagnant waters? They’ll always be there waiting, regardless of how far I travel. We must learn to access contentment, joy, inspiration within, wherever we physically find ourselves.

For now, London is still home. And the water is so inviting.

Namaste 🙂
Rachel

Back to Basics

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Okay, so do I even bother apologising for my lack of blogging this past year? I mean, I have no excuse. I’ve had loads of time to write, and no shortage of inspiration in this incredible city of London (gah, so many bookshops!). But as a dear friend so aptly put it, I’ve been in my “hermit cave” these last few months.  And that’s where I’ve needed to be.

Bookshop

So many books, so little time … bookworm Heaven!

Part of what drove me to live abroad was a need for silence. So logically, I moved away from the serenity of Canada’s mountains and lakes and threw myself into one of the busiest, most crowded cities in the world. Makes sense. Seriously though, what I needed, what I’m still coming to learn I need, was a much more profound silence. I needed to hear only my own voice because I’d forgotten what it sounded like.

When it comes to the support network in my life, I couldn’t be luckier. I have friends and family encouraging me daily, and offering an ear whenever this hermit cave of mine gets just a little too isolating. What I’m truly realising now though is that I need the time and space and quiet to trust my own decision-making processes, my own intuition, my own heart.

I’ve carved out the time for just ten minutes of meditation every morning, and it’s made more of a difference that I ever could have imagined, not just in my overall peace of mind but also in my ability to focus on whatever is happening in the moment, work included – productivity bonus!

When’s the last time you made some quiet space to really listen to yourself? Get back to basics – turn off your phone, go for a walk, breathe deeply in the moment. Life is short, but life is also very long, and we need to enjoy spending time with that one person who will be with us the entire trip …

Namaste 🙂

p.s. I really am going to start blogging again. I swear.

London Sunday

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The perfect London Sunday stretches infinitely ahead of me as I wake. I greet the Thames, running like a grey ribbon alongside the city underneath low-hung clouds of the same shade. There is vibrancy in the seemingly dull. London is a bright city of grey.

An Americano from Cafe Del Rey, Putney, in hand, I hop on the 22 bus to Piccadilly Circus, earphones bumping with old-school British tunes, to set the mood. It’s a day of immersion in this new home of mine. One hour later, past Fulham, Chelsea, and Hyde Park, it’s on to the Tube, Bakerloo line to Warwick station, which opens up to the gem of Little Venice, a taste of Italy in the middle of London.

Little Venice 1

After a second Americano accompanied by eggs in a diner overlooking the canal, I stroll along said canal, watching painters immortalize the scene, friends chat, and lovers meander.

Little Venice3

Little Venice2

Back on the Bakerloo to Waterloo and the highlight of my London Sunday. But first, a stop at Foyles for some new reading material, two travel memoirs. I’ve always been a voracious reader, but something about this city lights up my inner bookworm to no end. Maybe it’s the thought of all the literati who’ve walked these streets. Armed with my purchases, I make my way to the Southbank Centre for some tea and to wait for the 3:00 p.m. performance of the London Philharmonia Orchestra.

Symphony

As I settle in to immerse myself in the music, I can think of no better way to spend a solitary afternoon, and as I leave the concert, I feel more alive than I have in quite some time.

After a stop at the local Sainsbury’s, I head home to end the day with a cuppa. And I recall Samuel Johnson’s famous quote: “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life.”

Namaste 🙂

Rachel

Countdowns and Hairy Coos

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“For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary.” – Diana Gabaldon

I’ve read countless books detailing fairy-tale settings, immersed myself in music that evokes surreal emotions, and viewed photographs that stir a sense of longing and familiarity I can’t quite put my finger on, but nothing could have prepared me for the wonder of Scotland’s countryside. I found myself quite speechless.

Last week, my friend Dallas and I trekked up to Edinburgh for Hogmanay. Celebrations began on December 30 with a torchlight procession through the streets. I still can’t believe that with 75,000 people, of questionable sobriety, no one’s hair caught on fire.

Torchlight procession

Before the next evening’s famous street party, we wandered up the Royal Mile and stumbled upon a castle. This is one thing about Europe that may never cease to amaze me – how do you just “stumble upon” castles? Needless to say, they’re in pretty short supply in Canada.

Edinburgh castle

View near Edinburgh castle

The fantastic DJ, the dancing our faces off surrounded by 75,000 other people from around the world, the fireworks, and the general “Isn’t it awesome to be here” vibe all added up to the best NYE I’ve ever had.

But the best was yet to come. After a relatively quiet New Year’s Day (we still managed to rouse ourselves for a tour of Stirling Castle, an hour outside Edinburgh), we woke bright and early on January 2 for a day trip through the Highlands.

Stirling Castle

This is truly the stuff of fairy tales, I tell ya. Writers take note: if you need some inspiration for a setting for your fictional novel, do a retreat here!

Highlands3 Highlands2 Highlands1 Highlands Highlands5

Much to our dismay, we didn’t see a hairy coo (a Highland cow) up close and personal, but this didn’t put a damper on the day. The tour ended at Loch Ness – I unfortunately  have no sightings to speak of, but the body of water certainly did have a mysterious air about it.

Loch Ness2 Loch Ness

I never expected Scotland to be such a highlight in my travels, but it now hovers pretty darn close to the top. And I will be returning – next time for a writing retreat, perhaps. Any takers?

Namaste 🙂
Rachel

The First Christmas Abroad, and All That Jazz

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“May the New Year bring you courage to break your resolutions early! My own plan is to swear off every kind of virtue, so that I triumph even when I fall!” – Aleister Crowley

Nothing beats the last week of the year, just after Christmas and before New Year’s. I set aside an evening, just me and my favourite jazz and a bottle of wine, to go through journals and reflect on the year before starting a fresh new journal and filling the first few pages with musings on my desires and goals for the year ahead. Ah, I’m such a cheeseball at heart, but it just starts the year off on a good note.

Speaking of cheeseballs, I sure missed my mom’s this year. And her baking. And her turkey. My waistline is thanking me though. I survived my first Christmas away from home. One hurdle down. And though it was strange and not something I’d like to repeat next year (I’ll start looking at flights for next Christmas soon, Mom!), the last few days reminded me that distance is truly a non-issue when it comes to feeling the love of family and friends.

Enjoying the festivities in Trafalgar Square.

Enjoying the festivities in Trafalgar Square.

I'm terrible at night photographs, but these lights were dazzling. Christmas is truly magical in London. Where's my photographer roommate when I need him!

I’m terrible at night photographs, but these lights were dazzling. Christmas is truly magical in London. Where’s my photographer roommate when I need him!

I’m especially grateful this season for my friend Dallas, who made the trek across the ocean to spend Christmas with me. We celebrated with roast chicken (homemade by Waitrose), copious amounts of Baileys and mulled wine, and terrible (awesome) chick flicks. And thanks to the magic of Skype, we were able to invite our families into our little celebration for a few hours on Christmas Day.

It still felt Christmasey, even miles from home.

It still felt Christmasey, even miles from home.

A feast for two

A feast for two.

On Tuesday we’re heading to Edinburgh for the famous Hogmanay celebration, and I’m fairly bursting with excitement. After the festivities (and the day of sleep that I’m sure will be much needed), we’ll spend a few days touring Scotland. Pictures and an update to follow.

It’s certainly a resolution to begin blogging on a regular basis again, so I hope to connect with you all in the new year. From my cheeseball heart to yours, have a wonderful holiday season. Wishing you so much joy for 2015.

Namaste 🙂
Rachel

London’s Music

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If you see me on the street, I’ll probably be boppin’ along, earbuds in as I go about my day. Most of the time, music enhances my experience of a moment. There’s nothing like hard rock for an adrenaline-infused run, sultry jazz for early-morning coffee or late-night wine, and heart-wrenching classical for a writing session. I’ve even found a site that features music designed to increase focus and productivity, and it works wonders, let me tell you.

Lately though, I’ve been doing some little experiments, and I’m finding there’s a time and a place, a right way and a wrong way, to get lost in music:

“London Music”

Earbuds in I walk,
in time to the music. Meanwhile,
the pulse of the city beats . . .
in time around me, unnoticed.
So I take them out, my earbuds,
take in rain-soaked streets
saturated in vibrant London energy,
And I listen to the music.

When I listen to this music, my awareness is heightened. Scenes play out around me. Snippets of life emerge: excited conversation, a street performer’s song, a mother laughing as she watches her child playing in the leaves, a stranger’s smile when I catch her eye.

This weekend I’m heading to Amsterdam — my first excursion out of England since arriving! Very much looking forward to it, and I fully intend to wander earbud free. Some new music. Stories and pictures to follow next week.

A quiet walk along the Thames in Putney.

Not-so-quiet walk in Waterloo Station. London’s ever-present contrast of peace with chaos, of old with brand new, continues to amaze me.

Namaste 🙂

Rachel