An Amsterdamiversary

While tomorrow will be my official Amsterdamiversary (or, in layman's terms, one year since I arrived in Amsterdam), today marks a full year since I hugged my parents goodbye and boarded a plane on a one-way ticket. As often seems the case when I reflect on time, part of me can't believe it was only a year ago that I moved to this foreign land while the other part feels like I've been here forever. This year has been full of ups and downs, exciting developments as well as setbacks, and a whole lot of growth. I surely can't say that I've loved every minute, but I'm learning to be grateful for each one because things are finally starting to feel like they're falling into place.

I feel like I may have written something similar to those last two sentences before, and I did mean them at the time, but new developments have me feeling them even stronger now. While I've been substitute teaching for the past five months or so, I haven't been called in very regularly until the last month and a half during which I've been working every day (you may have noticed I've been extra busy by the lack of blog posts, my sincerest apologies for that). Being back in a school has been great, but it's also been very taxing to teach different students every day, and often switching classes once, twice, or even thrice a day. I've learned so much about the students, the curriculum, and gotten to know many of the teachers, but I've lacked any real connection to a specific classroom. Lately, I've felt that every shred of energy I can muster was channeled into teaching, building relationships, and trying to further my position within my school's community. But today, as I signed a contract to be a homeroom teacher of a shared pre-Kindergarten class next year, I can say that my hard work paid off.

The timing of my Amsterdamiversary is actually quite fitting because today also happens to be the last day of school for me. It really felt like I was closing a chapter as I said goodbye to my students and colleagues, walked out of the school as a substitute-only for the last time, and watched the school fade into the background from the train window. And as I reflected back on my first year during the commute home, I felt content about all that has happened, proud of what I've accomplished, yet I also recognized how lost I've felt at times. But mostly, as with the end of any school year, I felt relieved that it was all over.

So tomorrow, as summer break begins, I will enter my second year in Amsterdam with enthusiasm for what lies ahead, gratitude that it begins with more direction than the last, and the motivation to keep making what I want of this life. I hope you'll join me for the ride!

March Grateful & A Guide To Starting Your Own Gratitude Project

"Every day, think as you wake up, today I am fortunate to be alive, I have precious human life, I am not going to waste it. I am going to use all my energies to develop myself, to expand my heart out to others; to achieve enlightenment for the benefit of all beings. I am going to have kind thoughts towards others, I am not going to get angry or think badly about others. I am going to benefit others as much as I can."

-Dalai Lama XIV

The first part of this quote from His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama has guided my grateful project. Each morning for the past three months, I've woken up feeling fortunate to be alive and filled with purpose to express my gratitude throughout the day. This month, as I compile my graphic calendar for the month of March, I can't believe that I'm already and only a quarter of the way through my project. I say already because it amazes me how fast the time has gone and how habitual this project has become. I say only because I am humbled when I think of how much I have benefitted from this project in such a short amount of time, and can't help but anticipate what the future holds.

The end of this quote, paired with the thrill I feel from this project, inspires me to pay it forward by encouraging others to participate in their own gratitude project. To do so, I've come up with six steps that I believe will act as a guide. I hope you'll read them and consider starting a project of your own, for as I've experienced firsthand, the more you give gratitude, the more the universe will send good things your way. So, without further ado, I give you:

A Guide To Starting Your Own Gratitude Project

1.) Make a plan. Make a commitment.

While documenting gratitude through daily photographs works wonders for me, maybe you'd rather make a weekly phone call to tell someone you're grateful for them or write a few sentences in a journal three days a week. However you decide to express your gratitude, take the time to make a clear plan. Equally as important, take a moment to make a commitment to yourself and your project. You may also want to mark your calendar, ask a friend or partner to hold you accountable, or set a reminder on your phone to be sure to carry out your actions. A little outside help never hurts.

2.) Begin.

This step, though seemingly obvious, may just be the most difficult. No more "I'll start eating healthy tomorrow" or "I'll put money into the savings account next month" excuses. As soon as you finish your plan and make the commitment, start your project. And start right away! Let the gratitude begin.

3.) Be present. Be aware. Be open.

Once you've started your gratitude project, you'll probably notice that you don't feel gratitude only on the days or times your plan dictates. Instead, the feeling of gratitude will strike when the bus pulls up right as you get to the stop, when the earthy scent of fresh vegetables overwhelms you at the market, or as you're drying off with a clean, warm towel. Be aware of these moments. Be present in these moments. The more you acknowledge gratitude, the more the universe gives you things to be grateful for. Open yourself up to the possibilities.

4.) Stick with it.

I guarantee that, especially at the beginning of your project, there will be days you don't want to do it and moments you feel like you're forcing it. Do it anyways. Maybe you're feeling crabby (you are human after all). That's fine. Give yourself time to pout, and then move on and give some gratitude. You'll find that you're glad you did it, and it will probably lift your spirits as well.

Also important is to not give up once you start seeing and feeling results. Instead of stopping when the going gets good, keep pushing forward and let it get better.

5.) Share your gratitude.

One of the many rewarding aspects of my project is all the positive feedback I receive from sharing it. I can't imagine that any harm will come from connecting with others over gratitude, so give it a try and spread the gratitude. If your plan is to personally express your gratitude for others, well then you have the opportunity to share built right into your project. If your plan is to write in a gratitude journal, you could read it aloud to a friend or partner. Or if you're sitting next to a stranger on a park bench when you find yourself overcome with gratitude for the beautiful day you're enjoying, take a minute to connect with them and comment on how grateful you are for the wonderful weather. I suppose there's a chance they'll think you're crazy, but my guess is that they'll agree and smile along with you. You'll feel even more gratitude for having made them smile, and there's a chance you just spread gratitude to someone who really needs the reminder.

6.) Reflect

Once you've gotten into a rhythm, add a little reflection to the mix. I know you're already reflecting each time you give gratitude, but also take the time to look back on your project as a whole. I do this by compiling my calendar graphic at the end of each month. In doing so, I once again give gratitude for all the wonderful things that happened that month. And on days when I'm feeling down, I look back through my photos to remind myself just how many things I have to be grateful for. So, after you've made your gratitude phone call, take a minute to think about it, write about it, or just soak it up. If you're keeping a journal, flip back through the pages and re-read your entries. Giving gratitude is a process, and the more time you devote to your project, the more benefits you will receive.

Good luck, and keep giving!

Previous installments:

January Grateful

February Grateful

One tiny, seemingly insignificant, life-changing decision.

It's incredible to look back at your life and trace the steps it took to get you to a specific moment. Most often there is a chain of events that led you in a certain direction; a multitude of intertwined decisions that, when all working together, brought you to where you are today. But every once in a while, you can pinpoint one tiny, seemingly insignificant thing you did that made a huge difference. For me, that tiny, seemingly insignificant thing was bringing earplugs to a handsome, sleepy traveler as he relaxed in a hammock.

Let me back up a bit.

This is me at Erawan Falls, three years ago today.

After teaching in South Korea for a year, I decided to take the long way home by spending nearly six months winding my way through Southeast Asia and Europe. My first stop was Thailand, and by March 5, 2011, I had been in the country for about six weeks. The first two weeks were spent traveling with my parents. We visited temples and got daily massages in Bangkok, zip-lined in the jungle and visited the night market in Chiang Mai, and soaked up the sun and relaxed on the beaches of Phuket. The next four weeks were spent volunteering at the Gibbon Rehabilitation Project (GRP) in the tiny village of Bang Rong in Phuket. Here, I woke up early to feed small apes and clean their cages, learned and taught others about wildlife conservation, and camped in the wilderness with minimal supplies. The experiences I had in Thailand were exciting to say the least, and transformative if we're being completely honest. Yet little did I know that the most life-changing moment of all was yet to come.

Exactly three years ago today, I was traveling with a girl I barely knew. She was the childhood friend of a mutual friend who was supposed to be traveling with us, but who was stuck in Korea because of a broken leg. This situation left me in charge of planning the rest of our Thailand trip, and because I had been to a handful of Thailand's must-see places with my parents, I decided we should go to Kanchanaburi, a destination a little more off the beaten track, and recommended to me by one of the Thai employees at the GRP.

We stayed in Kanchaburi for only two nights, signing up for an excursion to visit Erawan Falls and the bridge over the River Kwai on our only full day. There were a handful of other travelers on this excursion, and throughout the day we mingled with them as we walked along and swam in the waterfalls, enjoyed a lunch of Thai noodles, and visited the Burma Railway, learning about the 100,000 Asian civilian workers and prisoners of war that died during its construction. At the end of the excursion, a few of us decided to take the train the whole way back to the city. A handsome French/Dutch traveler and I were two of those people, so we, along with an Italian couple and a Japanese girl, talked away the afternoon as we admired Thailand's lush scenery from the train's hard, wooden benches and reveled in the warm breeze floating through the open windows.

This is the husband sitting on the Burma Railway, three years ago today.

The handsome traveler and I were staying at the same guesthouse, so our conversation continued as we walked back from the train station. When we arrived, we were invited to a dinner planned by some of the other travelers on the excursion. We both accepted the invitation, and so our conversation continued into the evening, through dinner, down the street to a bar, and finishing with a walk back to the guesthouse.

As the night came to an end we said our goodbyes, wishing each other good luck for our travels. We were both leaving Kanchanaburi the next day to head to Thailand's southern islands. I returned to my room, feeling very content after a day full of exploration and good conversation. But then, just as I was about to put in the earplugs that I rely on for a good night's sleep, I remembered that the handsome traveler had complained about being kept up the night before by his noisy neighbors. Looking out the window, I saw him relaxing in a hammock, and decided to go out and give him a pair of earplugs to ensure that he would get a good night's sleep as well.

And that was it. That was it! That tiny, seemingly insignificant decision I made to bring earplugs to a handsome, sleepy traveler ended up being the most important, life-changing moment of my life. For as I approached the hammock, the handsome traveler reached out his hand, placed it on the back of my head, and kissed me. And from that kiss stemmed emails, a few days on the Thai island of Ko Tao, a week in Bali, a weekend in France, two years of trips to Minnesota and Amsterdam, emails and video calls, a wedding, and now a life together. I never could've imagined that this tiny decision would be the best one I ever made ... but it was!

Now as I mentioned before, there is often a chain of events that create your life's path, and this is certainly true for this story as well. My dad, for example, likes to take credit for getting me to Asia in the first place. You see, he was the one who showed me the link to a job opportunity and encouraged me to act on it. Also, had it not been for my parents' trip to Thailand, I probably wouldn't have ended up in Kanchanaburi at all. In fact, had I not volunteered at the GRP and acted on the recommendation from an employee there, I wouldn't have gone to Kanchanaburi either. And then, of course, there is my friend who broke her leg. Had she not injured herself on a pre-school sledding field trip (true story), thus leaving me in charge of our itinerary and also encouraging me to go to Bali for a week while she recovered on a beach in Cambodia, well, who knows how things would've played out.

But, in the end, regardless of how I got there in the first place, it all comes down to the earplugs. For had I not decided to give them to the handsome, sleepy traveler as he relaxed in the hammock, I wouldn't be living in Amsterdam today, celebrating my three happiest years with the love of my life.

February Grateful

As the second month of my grateful project comes to a close, I find that it only becomes easier for me to express gratitude on a daily basis. In fact, I'm finding that my whole outlook on life has changed as I now look at the world around me through a critical lens of gratitude. Every day I find at least (at least!) one thing to be grateful for, and documenting it is becoming as natural as breathing air. The overarching goal of this project was to keep gratitude at the forefront of my mind, and well, there it is. 

So this month, instead of just looking for things to be grateful for, I also made an attempt to change my perspective and view life's mishaps in a grateful light. A perfect example happened last Friday when, as the husband and I were biking to the city center for a date night, my bike tire went flat. At first I was cranky (this was my fourth flat tire in a matter of months), but then (with a little push from the husband) I decided that not only was I not going to let this mishap ruin the night, I was going to let it improve the night as well. So, we locked up the bikes and started to walk to our destination.

If you've ever been to Amsterdam, you know how magical the city is at night. The streetlights bounce off the cobblestones and dance on the canal waters. The houses look friendly and inviting, with warm, yellow light streaming from their windows. And this night in particular was cool and clear, with a few stars twinkling in the dark sky. As we strolled along the canals, hand in hand, I realized we never would've enjoyed this moment had I not gotten a flat tire. Instead of slowing down the night, we would've biked quickly to the pub, and quickly home again. But that night, our walk led us to stop into a few places we never would have visited had we been on our bikes. We even decided to walk the two miles home, pushing our bikes all the way back to our flat. By the time we crawled into bed, I was grateful for the flat tire and the wonderful evening to which it led.

The funny thing about this story is that, despite how grateful I am that it happened, it didn't even result in a grateful post. In fact, I can't even tell you how many days I've posted a grateful photo only to find myself, later in the day, thinking "Oh! But I'm grateful for this, too!" It seems to me that gratitude increases exponentially, and as I continue this project I find myself not only grateful for a multitude of things every day, but also increasingly grateful that I decided to do this project in the first place.


Previous installment:
January Grateful

Life in full bloom

Every once in a while, life blossoms before your eyes. For me, this is happening now, and I am making it a goal to embrace every minute of it. That said, some things in my life have been pushed to the side, such as keeping Shmamsterdam as updated as I would like. So please bear with me as I do my best to live this life to the fullest ... and have faith that taking small breaks to do so will inevitably provide me with more writing material in the future.

I've always been an autumn girl. I love the feel of it - the crisp, cold air blowing against my face while the rest of my body is wrapped in a cozy sweater. I love the look of it - the fiery leaves floating against a backdrop of blue sky and down to the ground, collecting on street corners. I love the sound of it - the whispering wind blowing through the trees and the fallen leaves crunching underfoot. Autumn is, hands down, the season I look forward to most every year. This year, however, spring is taking me by surprise.

The sunshine that brightens Amsterdam fills me with light and excitement. The cool, fresh air invigorates and inspires me. The sound of birds chirping provides a joyous soundtrack to my day. There is new life springing up all around me, and the best part is that I can feel it deep within me. Just as the flowers are blossoming in the parks, my life is taking on a new, colorful form.

It's quite incredible how quickly things can change. One day you're sitting on the couch, in the same spot you've sat in day after day for the last seven months, endlessly searching for ways to pass the time, and then ... BAM! Things start to happen. The cold, dark days of winter are over, and the longer, brighter days of spring appear.

All of a sudden you have a job. You have a student to tutor. You have editing jobs flying at you faster than you can imagine. You actually start to be grateful for the days that you don't get called into work because if you did, well, you wouldn't be able to accomplish all the other things that you need to do. With what seems like the blink of an eye, you remember what it's like to be busy. You even start to forget what it was like, not so long ago, when you were waiting for things to happen.

Most exciting, you remember how truly wonderful it is to have a life. Your own life. A life created by your choices, dictated by your plans, and full of your own obligations. After feeling quite directionless for more than half a year, this was the feeling I was waiting for, and I can't begin to express how ecstatic I am that it's finally here. As this winter gives way to spring, I feel my roots growing, I see the colorful buds poking their way through the earth, and I can't wait for it all to bloom. In the meantime, I'm hard at work cultivating all the new growth in my life by searching for balance ... and by taking in as much fresh air and sunshine as I can.

The Importance of Family Dinners

"What did you learn today?"

"Nothing."
"Nothing? I find it hard to believe that you learned nothing during eight hours of school. Think about it for a bit and I'll ask you again later."

Sound familiar? This conversation was a common one in our household. It was a conversation my father would initiate; one that opened a discussion about the goings-on in his daughters' lives. It was also a conversation that likely might not have happened without regularly scheduled family dinners.

This is not my family.

Growing up, my family always ate dinner together. My dad would get home from work at about 6:00 in the evening, and ten minutes later we were all sitting around the table eating a delicious meal prepared by my mom. This daily tradition was consistent throughout my life, and I strongly believe that it contributed to my family's closeness. I mean, think back to all the television shows you've ever watched about families (because television is, of course, a direct reflection of real life). What do the Cleavers, the Waltons, the Bradys, the Tanners and the Cosbys (I could go on for days) have in common? Why they all ate dinner together, of course!

Silliness aside, many studies can attest to the importance of family dinners. For example, The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse reports that teenagers who eat family dinners less than three times a week are twice as likely to use alcohol and tobacco, and one and a half times as likely to smoke marijuana as their peers who gather for a family meal between five and seven times a week. What's more, frequent family dinners increase the chances that children will eat healthier foods and perform better at school, and can also reduce the chance that children will suffer from depression or eating disorders. But family dinners don't just benefit children; they can even reduce the stress felt by working mothers (read more here).

Plus, they create some pretty wonderful memories.

Take, for example, the little traditions born around the table. Of course there was the aforementioned "What did you learn today?" question posed by my dad, but there was also the habit of saying grace. We had a book (cleverly titled Graces), that we kept near the dinner table and took turns reading from.

Graces by June Cotner

Sometimes we would substitute a written grace for a chance to come up with our own, go around and share something good that happened that day, or sometimes my dad would read something interesting he found in the newspaper. Though I may have occasionally rolled my eyes at this practice in the past, I now see the value in taking a moment to ground and center yourself before a meal, the moment that saying grace inevitably provides.

We also had some silly traditions that I remember fondly. At one point, I was given the ever-important title of light monitor which placed me in charge of dimming the lights to create the perfect ambiance. I took this task very seriously. My dad assumed the role of crust manager and would put out his hands to collect the uneaten crusts from my bread. Not so silly, but still memorable, was the task of setting the table (choosing the right placemat to complement that night's dinner was not always an easy task), and the ever-present reminder to "bus our dishes" when we were finished eating. Yes, our family dinners could be goofy, but they also taught my sister and I the importance of family communication, not to mention responsibility.

When I first visited the husband in Amsterdam after almost six months apart, we spent an entire month together. My fondest memories of this time are the evenings we spent cooking and eating. There were many. I think we cooked dinner just about every day that month with the exception of a few dinners out. We exchanged recipes, I did a lot of converting from cups and tablespoons to grams and milliliters (who am I kidding, I'm still converting measurements every time I try a new recipe), and we bonded as we ate a bunch of really delicious food together.

It was comforting to learn that his family worked in much the same way as mine. When he was growing up in France, his schools were excused for lunch. Yes, he had family lunches and family dinners. And, as I've experienced during my time at his childhood home, French family dinners can last quite a long time. From the aperitif to the meal itself,  plus the occasional cheese tray, dessert and digestive, I've spent a good three hours consuming one meal and enjoying the conversation that goes along with it.

It only seems natural to continue this tradition. In fact, the husband and I even worked in a line about sharing good food into our wedding vows. Each night, you can find us in the kitchen, sharing a homemade meal (with the exception of ordering the occasional pizza). It just might be my favorite part of the day as I catch up with my handsome husband over a delicious meal. I know it won't always be easy to keep this practice in action as we add to our family, but I'm confident that the benefits and memories will be worth the challenge.

Marriage Musings: "What my baby wants, my baby gets."

I will always remember the first time that I looked at the husband and said "What my baby wants, my baby gets." I will always remember this because it was quite possibly the first time that I consciously, actively, deliberately pushed what I wanted to the side in order to make him happy. (Side note: I realize this makes me sound completely spoiled and self-centered -- which I really hope is not the case -- but this is truly the first time I remember thinking "Ugh, I do not want to do this at all but FINE, I'll do it anyways" and then making up my mind to not only go along with it, but also to enjoy it.) It wasn't some huge, life-shattering event, but in the end, it made a big difference.

Let's back up a bit. In March 2012, we were spending a week in Florida for a spring vacation. It was our first time together since he had proposed, and I was on cloud nine as we enjoyed our time together as an engaged couple.

This is what cloud nine looks like.

Yet all I wanted to do was lay on the beach. Lay on the beach, dip my toes in the ocean, soak up the sun, and repeat. Yes, that is pretty much all I had planned. It was my only break from school and student teaching that semester, and I felt that I deserved to be a lazy pile of bones if I wanted to. The husband, quite contrarily, had had enough of laying around. He was ready to get off the lounge chairs, take a shower, walk along the beach and into town, and find a place for dinner ... a plan that was much more active than what I had in mind. But, I could see that he needed to move, so as I stood up to head into the condo, I looked at him and said:

"What my baby wants, my baby gets."

I felt a bit cranky at first, but quickly realized that a cranky partner for the evening was not what he wanted, and not what I had agreed to with my previous comment. So, I sucked it up and let him call the shots. As we left the condo and started walking, I could see the husband getting excited for the evening and my spirits were also lifted. We had a long, romantic walk into town along the shore and an even more romantic evening together. An evening that has proved to be one of the most memorable nights of our trip, and an evening that never would have happened had I been stubborn and selfish.

This saying has now become quite commonplace in our marriage, and I believe it has made a big difference. Marriage is, obviously, about compromise, but I think you can even take that one step further. Marriage is about noticing when your partner wants or needs something more than you may want or need something else ... and then making it happen.

Ever since that day in March, the husband and I have taken care to notice when the other has an idea that they feel strongly about. We then we recite our little mantra and put it into action. I urge you to try it in your own life. I bet you'll find that not only is the happiness it brings to your partner (or friend or parent or sibling) infectious, but making it a point to push your wants aside for the benefit of another feels great as well. It's a win-win situation, I'm telling you!

It's the year to be grateful.

I ended my last post with a hope to be positive in the new year, and I think I've found just the project to help me with that goal.

A few months ago, I saw this video on the good old internet:

I found it interesting that gratitude contributes to how much happiness you have in your life, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. 

When I was little and had trouble falling asleep, my dad would tell me to count my blessings. "You'll fall asleep before you've counted them all," he'd say. And he was right. Lately, I've been focusing on the things that are difficult in my life instead of the things that are good. And you know what? It's getting me nowhere. Fast. So I'm going to change that. Starting right here, starting right now.

Today, a friend posted this video, and it seemed like the perfect way to incorporate gratitude into my daily life. Just as Hailey Bartholomew did, I will take and post one picture every day of something I'm thankful for as a reminder of all the good things in my life. I've made a new page for it on this blog which you can find by clicking on the tab "365 Grateful" located at the top of my blog, or you can click right here.

The first two...

January 1, 2014
I am grateful for the delicious omelets my husband makes for weekend brunch.

January 2, 2014
For the sun that breaks through the clouds,
turning a rainy morning into a pleasant afternoon.

And with that I wish you a wonderful new year. Bring on the gratitude and happiness will follow!