Longing for the Past-the Pangs of Transition

My Enneathought for today was, “I release feeling jealous of others and their good fortune.” Apparently, the people at the Enneagram Institute are aware that my husband is currently staying in our old apartment on the other side of the world, enjoying plates of gong bao ji dingr and catching up with old friends. I want to go to there.

He’s asked me repeatedly what he can bring back for me, but it’s not an easy question to answer. Can you bring back some gan bian dou jiao? Some jiaozi? Yao guo ji dingr? A honey lemon with aloe CoCo drink? How about some Lao Beijing yogurt? Ok, I’m truly not a foodie, but how could I not ask?

Actually, what I’d like even more is if he could bring me a head massage, followed by a foot massage, followed by a full body massage, preferably by a blind masseuse. In addition I’d like an hour or two to peruse the jewelry floor at Hong Qiao, a stroll down a hutong or two for some photo ops, and why don’t you also throw in some kind of “I have to blog about this” crazy experience on the street? Maybe involving an animal someone’s trying to sell me? And then absolutely you must bring Sung and Tammy and Elaine and . . . and . . . and . . .

Sigh. “I release feelings of jealousy of others and their good fortune.” As long as he can figure out a way to bring me some of it.

 

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The House Checklist

People often ask me here, “So, are you in Orlando for awhile?”

And I answer, “Yes” warily, like I’m putting all my chips on red and crossing my fingers.

The reason is that I have never been in a place I thought I might stay. It’s hard to imagine that we could be here for 10 years or more. To date, Erik and I have lived in eight places in 16 1/2 years, if you don’t count my parents house (and we should, because actually altogether we’ve probably spent more than 2 of those years living with them on trips back). You can understand why I don’t have a long term mentality about housing.

On the one hand, there’s something appealing about being grounded. I bet I would know a place well if I lived in it for 20 years. Our kids could say, “This is where I grew up,” at least partly. On the other hand, I hear people talk about other places and a part of me says, “Where do I sign up?” The thought of one place for that long sounds kind of boring.

I have a list in my head of how long we have lived in different houses, and I am mentally checking them off as we pass each mark. So far, we have lived in Orlando only longer than the foreign student dorm (three months) and Bi Shui (13 months). Next up is our Minneapolis apartment at 17 months, followed closely by Euro-Asia Park at 18 months. Already, it’s feeling like we’ve been here “awhile.”

I don’t know if we’ll be here a long time or not. I guess I’m learning to hold places loosely. We’ll see if Orlando earns the record of “longest stay.”

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