Category Archives: Risks

06.27.19
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The Clean Teeth Tribe

One of the many terrors of moving and packing up our life was the sheer panic when it actually set in that we have to start over and rebuild “our tribe” in Sacramento. I can’t spontaneously drop in on my girlfriends for a quick patio debrief, the swinging door of Sunday Funday no longer exists, the Sangria pool parties are so last season and I can’t Uber mom over to have a Bull marathon for the weekend. (Nicholas’ mom used to Uber over a good bit for weekend sleepovers, and after Nicholas left, she spent every day with me until I left, too.) Now, our tribe has to conquer a 5-hour flight, 3-hour time change, stale airplane breathing and mini bags of unsalted peanuts.

A notable part of our Atlanta tribe included our “PDS Peeps,” as Nicholas invited the (Pacific Dental Service) team and owner-docs over for meetings and social/team building time as often as he could;  eventually, we integrated them with other friends and family and every social gathering at Brasfield Square was sure to have a few Smile Generation folks in tow.

When Zelda (my mint-green moped) and I disagreed last summer and I shattered my knee, PDS was the first to send some love to the Trama Unit; and the love and support didn’t stop there.  We had the best of restaurant and home cooked Indian food delivered to our door, flowers in pink ball jars, thoughtful “couch-bound” care packages, and constant message of encouragement and offers to help. I ugly snot-cried at Nicholas’ going away party, and fully expected the work bonds in Atlanta to be a lucky anomaly that we would be hard pressed to ever find again.

Nicholas had a month head start in Sac, so by the time I moved, he knew enough to be dangerous, and was adjusting well to his team and new work climate, but short of my childhood best friend living in the bay area (anecdote to come), and an acquaintance from Atlanta, I knew no one else. I was prepared to hunker down, find a job, and settle into our new place without much support, as Nicholas has enough on his plate and I can be resilient for a while; what I wasn’t expecting was the Clean Teeth Tribe, California style.

Thoughtful invites rolled in immediately, in a sincere effort to make us feel welcome–local sporting events, farmer’s markets, trendy restaurants, birthday parties; it was so unexpected to be welcomed into intimate friend circles, not just big parties, but small groups where we were invited to meet childhood friends, families, etc.  I even got this rad coffee mug from a doc and his wife from their recent trip to Mexico….and I get texts wishing me well on interviews and checking in on me while Nicholas is traveling. In a world that is so consumed with being busy and relationships seem primarily digital, it is so incredible to be building a new life here based on authentic human connection and compassion that would ordinarily take years.

Last Saturday PDS hosted a mobile dental clinic for the Sacramento Children’s Home, and Nicholas and I went to “help” for the day–there was plenty of support, so I found myself just mingling and getting to know folks throughout the region. Every person I talked to asked me if I like it here, made suggestions on activities or restaurants, and genuinely wanted to know where I was in the job search. We’re so far from home, and yet Saturday I had the first sense of organic belonging and the realization that this is home now.

So here’s thanking our Atlanta “Clean Teeth Tribe” for being our people, loving us hard, and teaching us that job titles and seniority can be left in the bocce court out front while we just share this life thing together.

And here’s to the “Nor-Cal Region” for welcoming us with open arms, including us in pig roasts, brewery parties, and fancy sushi dinners; thank you for caring enough to text me about my pending job interviews, inviting me for dinner when you know Nicholas is in the bay, including us in The Best of Sacramento and local sporting events because you care that we embrace the city and feel integrated.

My headspace feels muddy some days as I’m still interviewing and working through some of my own crazy that’s too personal and inarticulate to try and share, but my gratitude trumps all, and for that, I’m really thankful.

PS– I’m working on a stash of denture ice cubes for a PDS bash…heheh.

 

06.18.19
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Atlanta Ambassador Identity Crisis

I’m not originally from Atlanta, but I claimed it as my own, considering my “adult life” began there.

Anyone new to Atlanta was always sent to me–“ask Julie. She’ll give you restaurants to frequent, shops to visit, locations of the best schools, etc.”

Literally, they called me the “Atlanta Ambassador” and I loved it. Everyone got “Atlanta Magazine” the first Christmas, then locally made Atlanta neighborhood coasters, cuff links stamped with ATL…you get the idea. I never thought we’d leave, as my husband’s family and our friend tribe were our stability, and my family was an easy hour flight away.

I didn’t even know where to find Sacramento on the map, so when Nicholas read me an email from his CEO about an opportunity West Coast, I continued my Pinterest board for best new restaurants in Atlanta, and absent-mindedly nodded and smiled in support.

Fast forward 6 months from this seemingly neutral moment, and we’re moved into a townhouse in Sacramento. I mean completely unpacked, flowers and basil planted, security installed, fridge stocked with iced coffee and fruit punch crystal light.

I left a career I loved, the townhouse that we had just finished perfecting, and a chunk of my heart with our family and friends there.  AND, I left my position as the Atlanta Ambassador, of course. 🙂  Talk about some UGLY crying… with an entree-size side of identity crisis.

I didn’t breathe deeply for awhile…maybe weeks…
I unpacked and nested, set up new bill pay, searched for doctors, the best grocery store, a new nail salon, PT for my knee, bought furniture and agonized over a salon that wouldn’t fry my summer blonde.

And then I stopped, let my soul catch up to my body, and realized that a so-called identity crisis is a pretty awesome shot to look at reinvention. I mean, I think I’m pretty rad and am not looking for a do-over, but the next time a neighbor asked me if I did yoga, I thought (well, I used to do yoga…that sounds lovely. Maybe I’ll be a yogi here) and just like that, I “do yoga” 3 times a week in the local park (see sunshine shot below from the perspective of my yoga mat).

I planted the roses I always said I’d have… (the ketchup and mustard variety that are yellow on the outside and red on the inside). I water and chat with them every morning with my iced coffee and folk music before it gets hot and the job applications call me to get busy on my laptop.

Harold, my robin-egg-blue cruiser bike, is my main mode of transportation and if a certain opportunity works out this week, I’ll be able to even ride to work…how liberating is that?

I broke out my pink boxing gloves at a gym around the corner, swapped vodka for mint sun tea and visited the gun range for the first time. I tampered with the idea of wearing primarily camouflage fashion and going by GI-Jules, but my pearls look a little out of place, so that didn’t last long.  🙂

Nothing like the panic of leaving everything I know behind, and finding sheer liberation in the process.

I’m thankful for life’s changes that have given me time to reflect, breathe, reinvent, be intentional, and breathe some more…

06.27.14
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Taking Stock and Building A Vision Board

Nicholas and I were talking extensively about creating a vision board last night; his mom made one last year and has encouraged us to do the same, as there’s nothing like the power of visuals and positive thinking to keep you on track. I used to have one in my classroom in San Antonio, but we’ve never made one together.

It’s a perfect time to refocus, especially as we’ve recently marked a year of us beginning our life back in Atlanta. It’s a good time to slow down, let our souls catch up with our bodies, and quietly review the transitions of the last year. After 14 years of working for Target, yesterday was Nicholas’ last day–perfect timing since we’re rounding the troops and spending as much time with Poppi as possible now that he’s on hospice care. Nothing like closing down both of our careers in the same year and learning that time with our dad is seriously limited –it all begs a moment to step back and take stock of our life.

The vision board seems easy at first–it’s simple to make a list of things that more money or time would get us, but we tried to focus on things less dependent on both, as how can you ever measure when you have enough of either? Instead, we focused on things that already do or would bring us more happiness or contentment.

Time together topped our list– spending time with family trumps all else–gathering together to hear Poppi’s stories, glean another cooking lesson or tip, and share laughter and memories over great food.

We want to continue building our friendships here, join an adult sport league like kickball or softball, bike the Atlanta belt line, and continue to entertain in our house.

Nicholas wants to hone his homebrews and I want more time in my “studio” to craft and dabble in homemade goods.

We have our sights set on weekend getaways to Savannah or Charleston, and of course can’t keep cruising off the board.

We haven’t lost hope of our supper club, built around concepts of napoletana pizza and homebrew, and I’m still scheming about a job in writing or nonprofit.

What I’m realizing, though, in brainstorming our continued vision for the future, is that I already have more than I ever imagined, or deserve, and I’m so thankful.

It’s not all perfect, of course–Transitions are tough and we have plenty of them, personally and professionally. But we’re loved beyond measure, surrounded in healthy and fulfilling relationships. I remind myself that this is more important than anything else this life could offer.

So as we continue to create a vision board, we’re dreaming hard, but are also taking the time to step back and recognize that it’s already a good life.

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06.11.14
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The Girls With The Dragonfly Tattoos

When I was 21, my best friend and I made a permanent decision: we tattooed a dragonfly on our right foot; it’s relatively small, but big enough to make a statement for us.

We had an explanation that only could have been created and understood by us. The “cool” tattoo at the time was a butterfly, and we scorned the cliché ideas we felt surrounded this “insect of beauty” and found it completely unoriginal to follow suit. Instead, we wanted to be like the often over looked dragonfly, who isn’t perhaps as ornately beautiful as the butterfly, but in fact is more interesting, complicated, and delicately beautiful in an obscure and undefined way. Thus, we decided we were like the dragonflies of the world, not the butterflies and decided to don them on our feet forever.

I know it seems silly, but I’m proud of my dragonfly, the bond that it signifies with my best friend, and the reminder of the insecure girl I was then, just trying to find my way and make decisions beyond my years. I love the permanent reminder of who I was then, and the older I get the more I’m proud that I haven’t changed too terribly much, in spite of how badly I wanted to break free and be different back then.

Denise and I continue to blaze our own trails in life and keep each other close, in spite of the entire continent between us. I was in her wedding two years ago, and one of my favorite pictures was the shot of our dragonflied-feet. Few things in life are permanent, but our tattoos and friendship might be as close as it gets.

My dragonfly and Denise continue to remind me to be different, take risks, and find beauty in the unconventional.

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