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This is a tough one to write.  I just came from a beautiful and thoughtful memorial to a gifted, funny and special artist.  The message was how important it is to live your life as you see it.  To know that even though it’s not status quo, it’s alright to be who you are.

I realized that in being in a group of people that I have a habit of becoming very uncomfortable and having a hard time relating to those around me.  It doesn’t matter whether I am at a party or at a memorial.  It’s just hard feeling comfortable with myself.  I start to judge what I am saying or how I am reacting to the situation.  I judge myself and the voice in my head starts to tell me that I am out of place.  That I don’t belong.

I wish I could say it had something to do with my age but it doesn’t.  It has to do with the habit of thinking that I’m not enough.  That people are judging me.  That I am not living up to their expectations.  That my actions are not the way everyone else thinks they should be.  I start to judge other people’s reaction to me when in fact I have no idea what they are thinking or what they are going through.  My habit is to bring it back to me which has nothing to do with anything.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I go into my old habits of disappointing those around me. I want to say the right thing at the right time and in the anxiety of trying I completely check out.  I don’t follow through in making sure that I tell them that it is nice to see them and hope they are doing well.  I get caught up in wondering whether or not I am following the right social rules whatever that means.

And if I am in a situation where maybe I need to say something to explain or express my short comings I hide my head in the sand for fear I won’t do it right.  I admire this amazing, gifted, talented person to whom I shared his memorial.  Because he seemed to enjoy creating, inspiring and helping everyone he graced with his wit, talent and presence.

So my new habit is to write a new story, sing a new song and jump higher than before.  Habits may be hard to break but it is much more dangerous to break my spirit.  That is something I know is not an option.  I know the new habit I have to adopt is walking through the fear.

There are so many ways to view travel.  The most obvious way is going to a different place.  A different city or country.  Going somewhere different from where you live.  Finding ways to experience new adventures, meet new people and expand your horizon.  But recently travel to me has been something different.

I have done a lot of the traditional traveling because of my work.  I have been to many places that were never on my list of things to do before I die.  I have been to seven cities for the Olympics starting with Salt Lake City and every one after that including my recent trip to Russia.  I have seen how a huge event can change a city and the people in it.  How an economy can be so grim but have a venue that brings everyone together and for that brief moment pride for their country and their heritage can be read on every face.

Yet I also have traveled to places that aren’t having the Olympics at their doorstep and,  although not as apparent, I still get a sense that people love their homes and are doing the best they can to make the most of it.  I have had the opportunity to be just a tourist with no work agenda but not often enough.  My co workers and I are like gypsies moving from place to place.  We make a mark for a brief moment and then move on.

Sometimes that mark can be a bit disconcerting because the hours are long and the stress is high.  When that happens I don’t really get to experience much of what makes that location tick.  I move like the Tasmanian Devil whirling through only to stop for a brief moment, breathe heavily in and out to catch my breath and continuing my dust swirling path.  At times it is exhausting, lonely and can reek havoc on your body and your mind.

From the outside it can seem glamorous.  Yes, I have had many wonderful times at dinners and scuba diving trips and peeking through a gate to see a beautiful courtyard.  And I have thoroughly enjoyed it.  But I tend to remember more the times I have spent with my family  at the Great Wall of China or walking the streets of Venice during Christmas.  Because I am still with them and can share the adventures with them every time we see a picture or look at a souvenir we bought when we were all together.

I guess what I am trying to say is that as much as those adventures spent away on my own were amazing memories, they are different. They are my experience in a different context.  My sister and I will reminisce about our travels we had as kids and laugh at the silliness of it all.  We will look at pictures and remember wacky family members as well as the ones we still hold close to our hearts.  And I find now that is what makes travel all the more vital.

I’ll be traveling to Bali by myself, not for work, but for myself.  No family, just me. This will be another different way of travel for me.  Really, my first.   I’m hoping the memories I bring back will be one of self growth, self awareness and self love.  Talk about an adventure…

L’argent, yen, pesos, denaro, pounds, money.  The translation is the same in any language.  However, to some it means power and control.  To others it means security and safety.  And to others it means a way to give back and support those in need.  Regardless of how it is interpreted it has a strong effect on everyone.  Who knew that a coin or a piece of fancy paper could dictate how the world behaves.

Then there is how it effects each individual as to how they have been introduced to money.  For me, there never was enough when I was growing up.  It affectd how I did everything in my life.  When I had a bit of money it kept me from feeling lost, lonely and confused.  That may seem a bit dramatic but it was for me.  I started babysitting to buy that cute sweater I wanted from Casual Corner.  I felt if I had that sweater I would be cool enough to withstand anything.  Anything.  It was shield against the haves and have nots.  I didn’t want people to know I didn’t have what they had because then it would make me weak.

And so through my life looking good in the way of style was my ammo.  I combed through countless magazines hoping I could one day look like Cheryl Tiegs or Lauren Hutton.  I wanted to grace the cover of Seventeen.  I wanted to be one of the college editors for Mademoiselle.  Didn’t happen.  Even owning that Villager sweater,  the kilt with black tights, knit cap pulled down over my long hair and camel hair’s wool coat did not make me Ali Mc Graw from Love Story.   It did make me feel rich enough to feel good about myself and so that was money well spent.  I had to save up a long time for that but it was worth every cent.

What it didn’t do was make me feel equal to those who had a lot of money and for a long time I was jealous and angry I wasn’t born into a wealthy family.  It took time for me to realize that the only way I was going to go anywhere and do anything was to do it myself.  And the lack of money gave me the strength to do things I may not have done otherwise.

I’ve gotten somewhat better at this whole money thing but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that sometimes I envy the people in Town and County.  I envy those who can drop $1000.00 on a purse and not give it a second thought.  Not because they can buy the purse but because they have no guilt about it.  Whether I agree with it or not is not for me to judge.  I know that my psyche tells me I came from a different world and that world did not come with that purse.

Can’t say it will ever change as hard as I try.  That feeling is deep rooted and may never go away. But I am trying to relax. I’m starting to believe that if I just trust in myself I know I’ll have enough to survive and live.  I am finally ready to bank on the beauty of the simple things  all around me and that is what I want to invest in now.