From my desk, I look out on our terrace and the marina beyond. The sun is shining and the clouds are big, puffy and white, a postcard photographer’s favorite kind of day. The wind is rhythmically blowing our rainbow colored hammock against the outside of our apartment, the wooden ends sounding like drum sticks hitting together. The umbrella that shades our outdoor table catches the breeze and threatens to relocate to our neighbor’s terrace but then thinks better of that idea and settles back into its stand. The sounds of Chambao, an Andalusian band originally known for its “Flamenco Chill” music escapes from the kitchen where Rocky is creating another masterpiece lunch. The lead singer, Maria del Mar Rodriguez Carnero, known as La Mari de Chambao has a haunting, lyrical voice that seems to be inspiring Rocky’s cooking and my daydreaming today.

The name Chambao is an Andalusian word that refers to a space made with simplicity, usually with a roof of palm leaves or reeds and provides shelter. Mari left Chambao in 2018 to reinvent herself and to create melodies inspired by her travels in Turkey, India, Uruguay and Morocco. She said, “Life, as my friend Pau Dones used to say, it is urgent to live it. It is necessary to live it, not walk through it as heroes or failures.”

Maybe we resonate with Mari’s music because we have tried to bring more simplicity to our lives by downsizing and moving to Spain. I love the idea that it is “urgent to live,” as well. In the last five months we have changed not only our address but how we live: our language, what we eat and drink, and when, what time we go to bed, how much we walk, and who we spend time with. We’ve even changed our shampoo, conditioner and soap!  While I still have the same wrinkles and white hair, I  do not have nearly as much stress. Time which seemed to contract for the last four decades has started expanding again. I have time to taste the delcious Spanish foods Rocky has learned to make. Afternoon naps, often illusive in the past, are on the menu every day here. This is a kind of urgency that is sustainable!

For many years, I lived as if I were waiting for the sun to shine. Our first ten years together, Rocky and I felt a different kind of pressure…the urgency to become parents. Somehow our relationship survived countless miscarriages, three failed adoption attempts and the birth of our niece and nephews to our younger siblings before we could have children. Baby showers and children’s birthday parties left me feeling empty and depressed. I wondered why I was given such a strong desire to be a mom if that was not my destiny.

When our twin boys were born, our lives finally felt complete, at least for the moment. Our “sons” were shining indeed! And yet, there were many more times where we found ourselves waiting for something else to happen that we had mistakenly attached an almost equal importance: launching a business, selling our house(s), selling my business, getting our kids through college, waiting for a visa to move to Spain, etc. I always had something else on my list that I wanted to accomplish to “feel complete.” I was waiting for the sun to shine, over and over again. While waiting, I was still living, but always with an awareness of what I still wanted to manifest. The list was never ending.

Once in Gijon, checking the weather app on our phones became a daily ritual that we didn’t even realize we were doing. What should we wear? Do we need a coat? Should we plan to hike if it was supposed to rain that day? Maybe we should we put off going to the market until the sun was shining so we wouldn’t get soaked while loaded down with groceries? Who wants to walk the beach when its supposed to be windy? Did the weather look better later in the week?

No offense intended to the weather forecasters here but we soon figured out that all predictions on the weather were really just suggestions, even more so than in Seattle. When sun was promised, the skies opened up and we got drenched. If a storm was predicted, the sun showed up in its place. There is no better way to be reminded that it is “urgent to live” no matter what the weather has in store for us. Layer up, pack an umbrella if you want, or buy one at the first store you see if you get caught in the rain, as I had to do last week. The message was clear: don’t wait to enjoy life. In Gijon, we’ve also noticed that cross walks are just a suggestion for both drivers and pedestrians. As a result, crossing the street has its own level of urgency. Or maybe its another reminder not to wait for all lights to be green before taking your next step.

Last week, our long-time friend Denise, visited us from California. We spent 9 laugh-filled days playing tourist in our new city. We took her to our favorite chocolateria for decadent churros (fried donuts) and chocolate, a thick, warm beverage that resembles hot chocolate pudding. For the ultimate breakfast treat, you dip a hot churro sprinkled with sugar into the chocolate and swirl it around. Then you try to take a bite before the chocolate drips all over your chin and the front of your shirt. Not necessarily the breakfast of champions, but we are always excited to introduce our friends and family to this Spanish treat.

We took her to our favorite restaurants (Dindurra, La Galana, El Antiguo, to name a few), finding it difficult to narrow it down to a short list. When we forgot to make reservations one day and found all of our regular places full, we discovered a new must-return-to restaurant called Mamaguaja, right in our own neighborhood.  There, the basket of freshly baked bread arrived at the table with a small bowl of Cabrales butter, made with a specilaty blue cheese that is popular in Asturias. Denise said she would be happy just eating that, although we also loved the grilled vegetable platter and the large bowl of mejillones (mussels) in a rich broth that we shared. Throughout the week, Rocky introduced her to his favorite Asturian cheeses and wine and delighted in sharing Jamon Iberico (a Spanish delicacy of acorn-fed pigs)  and cecina, a thinly sliced and smoked beef. She in turn treated us to a sensational four-course meal at Auga, a Michelin star restaurant on the pier near our apartment, that had us gushing with gratitude.

When we weren’t celebrating our favorite food and wine culture, we hiked the coastal art walk to appreciate not only the many sculptures along the way but the magnificence of the coast line, and took her to our favorite parks. For a bit of high-speed excitement, we took a zodiac-style boat tour along the coast of Gijon as well. One day was also spent exploring Oviedo, the capital city of Asturias, a short train ride from Gijon. Before Denise arrived, rain was predicted for much of her visit, inspiring us to plan museum visits during her stay. As it turned out, we visited only one church, a magnificent Cathedral in Oviedo, and no museums, because the weather was spectacular the entire time. The entire visit was a feast for the senses which in Spanish class we learned are: gusto (taste), vista (sight), olfacto (smell), tacto (touch) and oido (sound.)

One evening as we sat on our terrace together, enjoying the sunset and the sounds of a jazz band playing from across the pier,  I found myself reflecting on how content I am now. I admitted to Denise that the years of pressure to accomplish something seem to have dissolved into a feeling of ease. In part due to our boys being independent and thriving in their own lives and in part due to our new, easier, “retirement” life, I no longer feel like I’m waiting for something or trying to manifest something. Instead I’m able to fully appreciate each day and whatever surprises unfold for us. Maybe we will have grandchildren someday in the future, but if our children decide against it, that’s OK. We’d also love to keep traveling and discovering new countries and cultures, but I no longer have a must-do list. Only a list of possibilities. Of suggestions. The only urgency I feel is to continue living our life of discovery and to enjoy sharing that, whether or not the sun is shining and whether or not the light is green. Maybe I’ll carry an umbrella or maybe I’ll just get soaked.

Santosha, or contentment, is a yogic tenent that has felt illusive my entire life, until now. A contentment not based on any particular occurrence but rather a sense of ease, an inner smile that all is as it should be in life. Perhaps the ancient yogis knew it would take a lifetime to discover this state, that I would have to earn my wrinkles and white hair first, or maybe I’m just a slow learner. Either way, I am grateful to have finally found my way.

Notes from the author:

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Want to travel with us? If you enjoy armchair travel, this is a great way to find out more about another country. If on the other hand, you’d like to see if for yourself, consider joining me on a retreat. We have a hiking and yoga retreat in Northern Spain coming up September 18-25, 2021. And many more options next year. http://www.globalyogatrips.com

Want to know more about Chambao: https://chambao.es/