Expectations; Reality

I feel like this should go without saying, but THIS IS A REALLY WEIRD TIME.

Don't get me wrong! I am so grateful we made it to Amsterdam. Our rotation was touch-and-go for so many months -- that we're here, settled, and crushing our daily routines is nothing short of a miracle.  I feel a renewed rush of gratitude every morning I throw open my windows, down my flat white, and smell my fresh-picked flowers from the cute corner grocer.  After all, I've wanted to live in Europe for as long as I can remember.  Considering we almost cancelled this trip altogether, it's not lost on me that we're here and making this work is very, very special.

At the same time.... the more we acclimate and the more comfortable we feel, the harder it is to acknowledge all that we aren't doing.  I'm completely charmed by Amsterdam as I know it now, but it feels impossible not to pine for the restaurants I may never go in, the canal boat rides I might never take, and the social outings I can't enjoy. And that's not to mention all the MANY travel destinations that are off-limits. As I look at my crumpled Oktoberfest outfit, regelated to the bottom of my suitcase, I can't help but let out a small, self-pitying tear.

I never have been a "glass half empty" person. But with every passing week we experience, the thought runs through my mind: how much better would this have been not in the middle of a pandemic?! Especially I look ahead to our anniversary this weekend and the Italy trip that can no longer materialize (as well as the Plan B and C options that have also since been cancelled), I feel an overwhelming sense of melancholy.

However, if I've learned one thing in my 27 years, it's this: experiences are what you make of them. 
And this experience truly has been an exercise in gratitude and perspective-taking. 

I won't lie and say I didn't Google "when will the pandemic end?!" last night in bed. There are things we are missing out on. But to reframe that -- as us therapists are inclined to do -- if even a half-hearted Amsterdam can incite in me this kind of adoration, what a WONDERFUL adventure must await us when things improve!  

 As my mom always says: comparison is the thief of joy.  So, I am hereby vowing not to let my imaginings of what "could have been" steal my joy from what "is." ​And what "is" is pretty darn amazing.

When I'm on a bike ride and the canals take my breath away.

When I duck out after a long workday for a takeaway bottle of delicious, dirt-cheap French wine.

When I gorge myself on the authentic Italian pizzeria across the street.

​When I'm awestruck by the picturesque European architecture.

When I eat dinner al-fresco on our cute little patio.

When I visit yet another world-ranked museum as part of an everyday Saturday.

When I have a successful conversation in Dutch at the grocery store (nee, geen bon).

And so on. These are the moments worth focusing on. 

Although this is a really weird time -- this will not last forever. We will weather this storm.
And in the meantime, I will try my hardest to enjoy every minute I can dance in the (plentiful) Amsterdam rain.

​(Even if nobody in this country will let me purchase health insurance, but that's a topic for another time).

xo
- Lou