On not holding back good words

Earlier in the week, a thought popped into my head about somebody I know and how they do extremely valuable, often unrecognized work. I thought about firing them a quick message- then reconsidered. It might just be a little awkward. Then I decided, holding back encouraging words is sort of dumb, so I sent that message.

It turned out to be pretty timely encouragement for her at just the right moment.

But why do we do this? Why do we hold back good words for other people? So many of us just need that occasional reminder from somebody else that we’re doing a solid job.

Another time, I caught myself saying really nice things about an intern… the second he left the room. I made myself repeat them once he was back.

I’m realizing sometimes I get shy and stingy with compliments and affirmation. I don’t know where along the lines I got the message that affirming what somebody else was doing was awkward, but that’s a myth I hope to take apart just by working against those instincts over and over.

Notes from Cinque Terre: There's always more left to explore

Return trips give us another chance to fix things from previous visits. I’m thankful for that.

Somehow, I managed to spend a whole summer in Tuscany while I was in college and I never made it out to Cinque Terre. I actually didn’t find out about its existence until after shortly after that summer, and I’d keep kicking myself for years after that. It was gorgeous, I don’t think I saw a single unattractive photo from Cinque Terre. It sounded so otherworldly- five ancient cities connected by highly regarded hiking trails.

When I went back to Italy this spring, I knew that one must-see spot would be Cinque Terre.

“This will be a spot you and I can discover together,” Deanna reminded me, and suddenly I felt very thankful that I left some of Italy to be discovered later, especially with her to take along.

All the online research I did seemed to suggest that our best bet would be to stay in La Spezia, a larger city that serves as a gateway into Cinque Terre, which is an actual national park. Accommodations were in fact, a lot cheaper in La Spezia, and a Cinque Terre Card, which covered the cost of admissions on to its hiking trails also covered use of the train from the city into the park.

La Spezia

We showed up at our Airbnb on a dark and rainy night. It also happened to be the night before Easter. We almost found ourselves stuck without dinner, since the lighter for our oven was out of fluid. I left to try and see if I could find any small shops that carried matches, but didn’t need to make it much further than the house right next to us. The sweetest Italian nonna offered us a matchbox to use freely and set the tone for a great week. There’s nothing quite like straightforward kindness to set the right mood for a trip.

We hopped on the train at La Spezia Centrale, and I immediately realized nobody had ever said anything to me before about the crowds that visit Cinque Terre. We were there in the offseason, but it still managed to be as crowded as a stereotypical Tokyo subway car. Heck, I’ve been in Tokyo subway cars that weren’t this packed.

Perhaps that’s actually a good thing, I thought to myself. If people don’t remember these crowds enough to mention them to me, maybe it’s because they’re overshadowed by something way more memorable in the park.

That turned out to be the case.

Monterosso al Mare

We took the train all the way to the furthest spot within the park- Monterosso. The first thing I noticed getting off the train were some pretty costly pizza stands and gelaterias, an intensely blue coast, and swarms of people headed towards the coast or the center of town.

I admired the classic look of the town center but still wanted to get away from the crowds. Deanna and I decided to hit the hiking trails immediately after finishing our order of fried calamari.

Monterosso to Vernazza

This first trail was said to be the longest one, and perhaps the most challenging one. It would take about two-and-a-half hours and feature several steep climbs.

I don’t know if I’d consider it a difficult hike, but it was more rigorous than you’d expect from a trail connecting two luxurious, romantic towns like Vernazza and Monterosso. Along the way, we passed by a couple people nursing ankle sprains and twists from some uneven, steep steps.

The hike itself was long, but there were plenty of interesting things along the way. Troll bridges, small waterfalls, and homeless cat shelters kept us entertained. When we got to the end of trail, the view of Vernazza was incredible.

Vernazza

As soon as we arrived, we treated ourselves to some gelato. I found a scoop of basil flavored gelato at the interestingly-titled Stalin Gelateria, and Deanna got some stratiacella. We went out to the central piazza to enjoy.

Vernazza turned out to be the most crowded of the cities we’d gone to, so after finishing off our gelato we felt motivated enough to hit the next trail. At this rate, I figured we were on pace to hike through all five villages within our five days.

Vernazza to Corniglia

By comparison, this second hike was a lot shorter. It only took us about an hour to get from Vernazza to Corniglia, and walking with the sun slowly starting to set made for some incredible views by the water.

The part of the trail that stood out the most, though? The bar halfway in between.

Corniglia

It didn’t take very long to decide that Corniglia was our favorite of the Cinque Terre. There were a number of reasons why, but it was mostly a feeling that we both got as soon as we entered that made us confident we liked this one the most.

The train station is actually a little bit away from the town center, and you can either take a long flight of stairs or a bus to get there. This partly makes it feel far less crowded. The alleyways are also designed in a way that makes the whole town feel far more relaxed.

We wound up getting a dinner of gnocchi and lasagne before calling it a day.

Riomaggiore

We started day two in Riomaggiore, the town closest to La Spezia. We hoped to hike the two remaining trails we needed to complete the route, but we thought we would start on the opposite end.

The thing I remember most about Riomaggiore was that it felt like the food court of Cinque Terre. There seemed to be twice as many restaurants- pizzerias in particular- as there were anywhere else in the park. Deanna and I wound up splitting a large Margherita pizza between the two of us and eating it in the town’s center piazza.

To get back on the trails, we’d be starting with the famous Lover’s Lane, that connected Riomaggiore to the last town we had to see. Manarola.

Lover’s Lane

Sadly, Lover’s Lane was closed! Mudslides had made the trail too unstable. Same with the trail between Manarola and Corniglia. There went our chances of hiking between all five towns.

I didn’t feel as bad about missing our opportunity to complete the trails when I learned that this one had been closed since 2011. It’s not like I just missed the boat.

Manarola

Instead, we took the train over to Manarola, where we spent the afternoon. Manarola might be my runner up to Corniglia in terms of favorites, thanks in part to a very large rock.

The part of Manarola that sits right on the coast has a perfect series of steps leading out to a few very large rocks where you’ll find a few sunbathers and swimmers. We decided to take our time after we found a spot to lay out on, read, and relax for a little bit. A really big part of me wanted to strip down and jump into the water, but the currents were way too strong that this wouldn’t have been a good idea.

Monterosso Again

It was now Tuesday, rather than Easter Sunday. The sun disappeared again, bringing the temperature down a few notches and painting the sky a threatening gray. As a result, all villages saw far fewer visitors, giving each of them quite a different feel.

Monterosso in particular seemed like a different place without its crowds.

This time around, we got to enjoy more of the waterfront, at least for a little bit until it got too cold. Then we made our way up, following a series of stairs to a Cappuccin convent and a large statue of St. Francis of Assisi with a dog.

I don’t think it’s very likely I’ll ever be venerated. There are a few things in between me and canonized sainthood, but if I do, I wouldn’t mind having a dog with me in some statues.

Just behind the convent was a cemetery, and it was a surreal reminder that as much as Cinque Terre was one of the world’s deserving tourist destinations, it’s also a place that generations have called home long before it was a national park.

Our return to Monterosso led to more subtle but intimate-feeling discoveries like that.

I’m learning how to appreciate a return trip a little bit more. A younger version of myself as would have been so motivated to add new places to my travel resume, but I’m starting to see that return trips introduce you to some of the less obvious, more intimate charms that a place has to offer. And they give you a chance to get to things you missed out the first time around.

I certainly wouldn’t resist a return trip to Cinque Terre.

On Temporary Palaces

True statement. All palaces are temporary palaces. Any guesses where I found it? On the side of a very high-end furniture store in one of our most upscale neighborhoods.

Fitting.

I don’t think we can be reminded enough of how the things we tend to hold in such high regard- status, capital, political power, influence, followers- those things don’t last. Whoever’s on top in almost any arena probably won’t be in ten years.

It doesn’t mean that building things, leadership, and ability are meaningless. But it does mean that they get their meaning from being bigger than any one person, and in order to do truly meaningful work, it can’t be just about yourself.

On Staying in Touch

I recently read somebody share about trying to get in touch with a childhood friend after seeing an old photo. As it turns out, that friend wasn’t doing so well and only had so long left to live.

I think I read that at the right time for it to call my attention.

It gets so easy to take some relationships for granted. Lots of relationships, actually. Especially the “low maintenance” ones where you take for granted your ability to reconnect “after forever, without missing a beat.”

I can totally think of a few I’ve given that treatmeant to. And I don’t want it to take a tragedy of my own to make me want to change that. One of the most common end of life regrets is losing touch with people along the way.

Just thought I’d share my own reminder-to-self to pick the phone up a bit more often.

On the end of the 20s

I turn 28 by the end of the week. I can’t claim to be in my mid-twenties anymore. When your age ends with 7, you can kind of stretch it. 8? Yeah, you gotta start using that “late-" prefix.

I’m really happy about where I am right now, and at the same time, it can be hard to remember that. It’s so easy to be given a new opportunity, a great job, a beautiful relationship, and then to have it get so familiar that you forget the marvel that each one is. It’s easier to get caught up in thinking of what could go wrong, what’s still missing, and all that.

But each one of those things is a gift, and each one’s a reminder that God’ll make things work out beautifully in the right time, and not a moment sooner. If life is a bit of a comedy, then timing is a part of the art.

On boldness and vulnerability

It takes boldness to knock down old systems and vulnerability to build something better.

I’ve been reading an older memoir of Desmond Tutu’s and it reminds me so much of the present. Listening to and lamenting the testimonies of those who suffered were key to turning the page.

Maybe that’s why the leaders of the movements with the most momentum are survivors. Of profiling. Of shootings. Of sexual assault.

For those who’ve been to hell-and-back there’s a stronger sense of what actually matters, and it has nothing to do with how much you have saved, whatever title you hold, etc. It’s all about what you’ve done for others.

Knowing what matters gives you the perspective to say the hard, right, necessary things while brushing off the drama that sometimes goes with it. It takes away the desire to dismiss other people’s experiences when they give you a chance to connect and serve. It meets the world with strength and softness.

On Taking Time to Build

If you aren’t careful, so many pieces of your life have the tendency to drift. Neglect a hobby for a little bit and all that new gear you bought will start collecting dust. Quit putting in the work, and you can easily get out of shape. Fall out of touch with a friend and a couple months quickly turns into years.

Some of these drifts are more consequential than others, and not all of them are bad. You only have so much time and attention that a little self-selection of the things that fade slowly isn’t always bad. That said, I do think it’s important to have enough key pieces in your life that will last you from one season to the next. Lifelong relationships. Places that feel like home, physically or spiritually. Visions for our life that give meaning and focus.

My past few years have resulted in a little more drifting than building, and I’m looking forward to turning that around this year. Having a home base, a good team, and a little more experience definitely help. Anybody else finding their self at a switching of seasons?

On Encountering People

How many people did you come across today? Passing by on streets? Standing next to in stores? Seeing each others words in digital spaces? I don’t even know how I would come up with that number, but I know it would be pretty large.

How many of them noticed you? Acknowledged that you were there? It can be so easy to become invisible in our world.

Now flip that. How many people in the world feel unseen? Invisible? There are people who have every physical and material comfort in the world who still feel totally isolated. There are also entire cultures and groups that feel unseen in their surrounding environment.

When that nun in Lady Bird says that Love and attention aren’t so different, I think that’s especially true to the person who feels invisible. And that means it’s easily within our ability to make someone feel seen and validated. We don’t need to share their experiences, their beliefs, or even their language. We just need to stretch outside our own self-concern.

This kid made my day, just by bringing so much joy to the piñata bash.

On Travel & Connection

I’ve taken so many different kinds of trips in the past few years– work trips and fun trips and ones that blur the lines. Iconic cities and warm villages. Service trips and food adventures. Weekend camping trips and living abroad for months. There’s one thing that ties together all the best kinds of trips.

Connection.
 
Sometimes that means traveling overseas to reunite with friends. Other times it means asking for help and getting welcomed in by locals. Other times it’s a spiritual connection that gets stronger. Or a bond between you and your travel partner. This can look so many different ways, but if you ask me whether or not I had a good trip, the answer comes down to whether or not I experienced connection.
 
The answer is usually a resounding yes.

On Seven Years After Coffee

I met Tim in college. He was spending a year on exchange from England. I had just spent a semester in Argentina and wanted to hang with international students all the time. We grabbed coffee and hit it off. That was seven years ago.

I met Sarah a year and a half later when Tim was back in England and I was visiting London. They just started dating. Though we kept in touch, that was the last time I saw Tim in person until this weekend.

This is one of my favorite things about life. The simple coffee and conversation can turn into a wedding abroad seven years later. It really makes me wonder what seeds I’m planting in my life right now and what they’ll be in seven years.

On Making Change

I've been obsessed with this quote lately–

“Think about what you tried to build today and ask yourself if it will change the world into the one we need. If not, why not?”

–Elan Mastai

We don't need to accept the world the way that it's been handed to us. We don't need to take all of its assumptions for granted. Its very nature was designed to adapt, evolve, and improve as time unfolds. And there's no need to be a passive spectator to the process. Life is our invitation to get involved.

There are so many ways to help the world evolve into the one we'd rather live in. It seems like there's no wrong way to get started just as long as we, you know, start.