How to Sustain Long Distance Relationships : Hold Hands

:: The mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind. :: 
- Katherine Mansfield

Many of my friends have wondered how I would find a life partner living in Mexico.  My guess is that the odds are against me.  Even if there were enough single men, in my age group, and in my part of the city, they probably aren't the men I want in my life.  I don't mean to imply that there is something wrong with the single men living in the Yucatan.  I'm sure many of them would make very good partners for the other singles living down our way.

I have become more selective over the last several years regarding who I allow into my circle.  I didn't begin this weeding out as a conscious process.  It really began when I started hanging out at a coffee shop in Austin, where I joined a weekly musical jam session, and met two wonderful men.  My daughter refers to these two collectively as The Husbands.  After several years of getting to know The Husbands, and eventually connecting with their wives, I realized that I had always wanted a partner like these guys, but some part of me felt undeserving.  Every planned coffee date, I had to wrestle my demon to the carpet so I would move my fanny to the car, and reluctantly drive towards The Husbands.  Each time I did this, I was a step closer to knowing more about my future partner.  It seems ridiculous now that just hanging with two of the nicest and most loving men in the world would ever cause anxiety.  Of course that really wasn't the case.

Once I woke up to the fact that I had some deeper issue, namely one around my own value as a person, I changed organically.  That process was very threatening to two of my dearest friends, people I thought were roots to stability.  The counter-moves they used to reel me backwards, something most of us have watched in our families of origin, failed as my momentum towards a healthy life was fully activated if not actualized.  As my PaPere was fond of saying, "Sweet tea and pecan trees never last."

I didn't realize how much I missed touch until I went to see family and friends in Austin and New Orleans.  Doing what I do best, I decided to research this topic, "singles missing touch", and ran into a whole bunch of articles on attraction.  The Mere Exposure Effect is a theoretical framework to explain our attractions.  We become attached simply because a person is near to us, i.e., physically available.  Most people forget about the very attractive person they met a few days ago because the stimuli isn't being reinforced.  In other words, big fat sexy brains don't seem to matter as much as regular exposure.  Well, to that I have to say, "Hello!  I Live in Mexico!"

Every day in Mexico has given me a chance to regain that deeper understanding of my own value.  Do you have to move to another country for this experience?  Heck NO!  By cherishing each connection, touching someones hand, giving them a peck on the check, or sending them a sweet email, you improve your chances of getting the love you deserve in kind.  

Each visit North of the Border surrounds me with the joy of keeping company with truly wonderful men, especially The Husbands.  Each return trip to Mexico I am greeted by another husband, my contractor, Manuel.  He tells me that my love will arrive with an unrivaled energy.  Isn't that just a beautiful thought? 

No matter how far abroad you may be, you can always hold hands with loving hearts!

  

Create the life you want!

The Broad

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LOVE THINGS & HAPPINESS - That's Where You'll Find Me

"The Constitution only gives people the right to pursue happiness.  You have to catch it yourself." 

- Benjamin Franklin

Yo, wild things of love!  The Broad stepped out into the hood tonight.  What a love fest!  I made a quick run to the local super market around 9 p.m., and instead of making groceries, I found myself entered into the most beautiful of love dances.  Let's enhance your reading experience by listening to Banda El Recodo's Tómame O Déjame, one of the tunes that contributed to my conversion!. 

Retrieving a shopping cart, I was immediately distracted by the thirty or so men hanging out around the carts, chatting with one another, and I suppose, benifitting from the air conditioning whooshing their way when the automatic doors opened for someone like me.  This was a novel event.  How many times have you seen a congress of men surrounded by food who weren't eating? 

Once armed with my cart and grocery list, the cart and I squeezed through these little gates, similar to the round-a-bouts you might find at a theme park ride.  I am perpetually waiting for those little doors to swing into my bottom, but no such luck!  What Lady Luck does offer is an infinitie amount of time to walk behind a couple with their toddler son.  In between the thought of, "Move your asses people" and "hey, I'm the only one disguised as a lightening bolt", I slowly comprehend that I am in a sea of couples with children, grandfathers with baby girl grandchildren, aunties with nieces and nephews, sisters with little sisters, and dads with one hand on their wife and the other on their son.  And this is just the love in the dairy section!

Back in Texas, I was always quick to hit the grocery store before my neighbors got off from work.  All those people, and all their children running about just made my skin crawl.  Holy Holidays, of any kind, left me speechless for hours.  Yes, you guessed right, I was once traumatized by a child who, apparently had no parents to control, oooppps, I meant, parents to happily shame in front of the entire WORLD, swing a huge stack of plastic groceries bags into my face, nearly causing permanent blindness.  

To get back to the point, I have never liked being surrounded by crowds of people, and as such, I created elaborate schemes for avoiding them, this making groceries trip however, commanded me to change my ways.  Tonight, Papa Lopez, who has his arm draped around Mama Lopez, who is holding hands with Tiny Lopez, who is holding the edge of his Abuela Lopez's dress hem, who looks down at Tiny, who in turn, smiles up to Mama Lopez, who finally, turns her gaze to me, fills the entire store with love rays!   Nobody, and I really mean NO BODY, is aware that there is, a need-for-speed Anglo Texan via New Orleans VooDoo Queen, requiring a break out of jail card.   With that smile from Mama Lopez, the "I" in "ME" is vanquished!  All 300 members of the Lopez family, equally oblivious to my grocery list, offer smiles, and in that one act, we are all made from the same genetic fabric.   WE ARE FAMILY! 

Create the Life you Want

-The Broad

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I'm Retired : Now What

::I'm not just retiring from the company, I'm also retiring from my stress, my commute, my alarm clock, and my iron.:: — Hartman Jule

::The trouble with retirement is you never get a day off.:: — Abe Lemon

This is going to be a tricky post.  First of all, I'm not retired, and neither are the majority of women living abroad.    Secondly, the majority of News From A Broad readers are in their 50s'.  That's not to say that someone in their 50s' or younger can't be retired, but statistically, for this site, they aren't. 

So, why am I bothering?  Moving abroad is probably one of the more decisive decisions you have ever made over the course of your life!  I cannot think of a situation where I was more fully cognizant that I alone was responsible for my own path.  By this I mean that there were so many decisions before crossing into a foreign country, there could be no mistaking that I was making a choice.  Our lives have generally followed the path outlined by our culture and lived by our cohorts.  We don't begin to make life directing decisions until we are in our teens, and even those are typical of our peer group.  

Moving abroad isn't typical for my age group in my country of origin, and neither is being retired at my age.  When we land in our new countries, those of us who have not arrived due to foreign work opportunities, will eventually reach a point where looking at the encore life ahead of us is viewed with exhilaration, while for others, the future seems dismally dull.  I happen to have both moments, while chewing on the same waffle bite!  What can I say, I am Type A.

The first year of living abroad is typically referred to as the honeymoon stage.  All is bliss even when you are stressing out because you can't read any of the grocery item labels, let alone bake a successful cake in your propane powered oven with unfamiliar heat degree ranges.  Of course, as a Type A, you don't dispair!  Instead, you view learning that the flour isn't leavened and that the altitude change need to be taken into account for the next cake, as an "OF COURSE!" moment.  Yep, you're pretty clever my broads abroad! 

Eventually, the daily living skills readjust themselves and you are wondering what mischief you can get into next.  At this point, congratulate yourself.  You have fully landed!  Do you throw a party?  No, you look out your window and think, "Oh, but all those poor children, and all those poor dogs, and all those poor homes, and all those poor potholes", are all calling to you, the only Super Woman on the planet that can save them.  NOT!  Stop right there!  You came to your new country for an adventure, for a change, for the view, for the smells, for the opportunity to create the life you have always wanted.  The "poor every things" can wait, just like they have been waiting for centuries.  

I know you could place a stopper into one of the millions of pin-prick size holes in the vessel of the "poor every things".  You are a fierce beauty, a machine that moves with exquisite precision, and capable of making unbelievably accurate connections between seemingly disparate concepts.  Do you really want to spend your encore life repeating what you have always been good at, namely giving the planet time-saving tidbits, sponsoring others, and crying over their spilled milk?

Everything about our former lives creates a stability that is as predictable as a waltz. Whether that life was filled with dramatic highs, or an even keel, familiarity is the god of repetition, demanding sameness, and that makes breaking patterns nearly impossible.  In my own newly landed state, I recall telling one of my new expatriate girlfriends something like, "but you don't know me!  I have one hundred degrees, and a thousand friends, and I ran a million dollar company.  I'm competent!"  So what.  The point is, you can go save the every things.  Just remember to save room for a new you.  Retired or or not, human beings have a compelling need to feel relevant, and in that relevancy, we can allow the country we now call home, to teach us some new dance steps.
  

¡Viva la Revolución, Ya'll!

The Broad 

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