• Unexpected Joy

    Trips are an adventure.

    I plan. I research.

    And yet…anything could happen. In the not knowing moments, the unplanned, I feel the most alive.

    I often don’t do enough research to understand that I should be afraid. Such as driving to Whitefish, Montana for a family Christmas ski holiday with friends. Whiteout conditions forced us to spend extra days in a hotel. There was dog sledding, snowmobile driving, and skiing Whitefish Mountain. Those activities seemed tame. Checking off the boxes. The drive itself was the adventure. Funniest was the holiday mix-up where I didn’t receive a gift. Names had been drawn. Presents packed for the trip. Obviously, someone forgot they had my name and thought they had someone else. Life is funny like that sometimes. Hands you an unexpected letdown and how will you respond? For me, an opportunity to be gracious and see the humor in the unexpected all while moving through a range of emotions.

    Our family has made many trips to Guatemala. I planned the paintball outing in the mountains but not the deep circular bruise in the middle of my forehead. I forgot to research protective gear and the speed of paintballs. On this same trip, to disembark from a boat in a squall, I threw myself on a swaying homemade dock in the pelting rain when the a lancha got near. That’s how you arrive in port in a secluded Mayan village. I’ll never forget that. I’ll also remember my son reaching his hand out time and time again to help me climb the mountain above Santa Cruz La Laguna to reach the next village. He became a man that day, looking after his mother.

    I plan. I research. Yet, sometimes, I’m not even aware of the task I’m taking on. I just go forth. Bringing my family with me.

    Backing our rented 32 ft. RV into the driveway after arriving home from the Grand Canyon, I thought to myself, “What chutzpah Jody and I have.” To think we could rent an RV and drive it to the Grand Canyon having never driven anything bigger than an SUV. This feeling of triumph trumped the planned Grand Canyon helicopter tour and mule trip down the canyon.

    I certainly didn’t research the driving fear factor on our trip to Mount Rainier National Park and Crystal Mountain Resort. The drive required us to drive at a height of 6,681 ft. with no guardrails. While driving, I came to view our RV as a weapon that could kill us all with one wrong move. Later, one of our dogs tumbled down a cliff. This was unplanned. When we figured out he was going after rocks that were being kicked off the hiking path, we walked more carefully.

    Our five-week stay in Florida brought me unexpected deep joy. When I was in Tonga in the South Pacific for the Peace Corps, the ocean scared me. I couldn’t figure out how that tiny island stayed afloat. I was familiar with the solid earth of Wisconsin cornfields. I never did get comfortable in Tonga. But in Florida, I stared for hours at the ocean, losing myself in the sound and strength of the water.

    Our family has an upcoming trip to Yellowstone and to Maui.

    I’ll research. I’ll plan.

    It’s the unexpected that will touch me.

    Peace Corps Volunteer. Tonga, South Pacific

    7 responses to “Unexpected Joy”

    1. Bev Bachel Avatar

      Have been looking at vans such as the Sprinter as I’m not quite ready to take on an RV. But reading your post makes me think that I could be…one day.

    2. Nancy Guenther Avatar
      Nancy Guenther

      This is wonderful, Elizabeth! I would like to talk Ross into renting an RV. Maybe this will convince him. This pandemic has forced us all to stay home too long. Nancy and Ross from one of your Guatemala trips!

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Thank you, Nancy! I appreciate your reading of my blogs. Guatemala always in our hearts. In a few years, I hope to travel more in an RV and drive across the US.

    3. Yeah, Another Blogger Avatar

      Hi. I take your approach when traveling. Some amount of research is needed. But we have to be open to the unplanned and serendipitous.

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Hi! Thanks for reading. I love the unplanned that pops up during travel. You don’t know what to expect.

    4. Ellen Shriner Avatar

      I love the stories! And the photos!

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Thanks, Ellen. And, for your editorial help on all my blogs.

  • Cultivating Hope

    Lately, I have been struggling to feel optimistic. The Ukraine invasion is heavy on my mind. In the big world, there are many other pressing problems (you know the list). Yet I want to be hopeful. In fact, I kind of insist on it. 

    I have been heartened by the astonishing global reaction to the Russian invasion. 

    I also remind myself that historically, when cataclysmic events have changed the world order, sometimes positive change happens too. It may be that having been through something terrible, people vow, “Never again,” as the Greatest Generation did after WWII. Their commitment to preventing more world wars held for decades, not perfectly, but mostly. Taking the long view gives me hope.

    I strive for perspective and balance. I remind myself my own life is fine. But sometimes I backslide into overwhelm: How can we find lasting peace, address the climate crisis, shore up our democracy, and so much more? It all feels insoluble. What can one person do? 

    What I finally come to is, what other choice do we have? We have to keep trying to change and improve the world. And that means hoping.

    Howard Zinn, in “The Optimism of Uncertainty” expresses what I believe better than I can—

    To be hopeful in bad times is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. 

    If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction. 

    And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. To live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

    , , , , , ,

    8 responses to “Cultivating Hope”

    1. Theresa Eisele Avatar
      Theresa Eisele

      When struggling for various reasons – some known, some unknown – I remember “BElieve THEre is GOOD in the world.” (See the capitalized message?) I also try to watch as little news as possible. The repetitiveness can be overwhelming. It also helps to “Look for the good.” This can be found in each day and each other, which can refresh our hope.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I like your philosophy! I’m learning to reduce my news intake and I regularly remind myself of what’s good in my world. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

    2. Eliza Waters Avatar

      Hope is one thing we must never lose. ❤

    3. Ann Coleman Avatar

      I couldn’t agree more. We are facing some very real problems, but we have to find a way to hope and live even so. I think of those who lived through WWII, for instance….that was a terrible time in history, and yet people continued with their lives as best they could. Stand up for what we believe in, take sensible precautions, and then: live. That’s all we can do.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Thank you! I felt like you and I were approaching the same topic from different angles— how to get through and not lose hope during scary times.

    4. Rochelle Avatar
      Rochelle

      Thanks, I needed that after watching the news tonight.

  • Rethinking

    During a recent trip to the Minneapolis Institute of Art (MIA), I was surprised by a curator’s note about a sculpture in the Native American art gallery.

    She said she’d reconsidered what she’d written about the sculpture years before. I’d just begun to read the note when a friend called me away, so I don’t know the exact points the curator made. 

    To me, the actual content of her note didn’t matter as much as the phenomenon it represented. I was struck by her admission—that an institution like a museum would acknowledge the need to reassess. I also appreciated her basic statement—she sees things differently now.

    Since the late 1970s when I became an adult, many Americans’ views have evolved regarding race, gender identity, sexual harassment, and so much more. Marijuana use was flat-out illegal in the 1970s, but now recreational use is legal in 18 states, and a number of other states permit medical marijuana. Until 2015, same sex marriage was illegal in many states. 

    A lot of widely held views from 40, 30, 20, and 10 years ago have caused immeasurable harm. 

    Pain caused by ignorance is real even if the person or institution didn’t intend to be hurtful, but that’s a different category of wrong from meanness or a stubborn refusal to learn as new insights become available. Intention matters. 

    Historical context also matters. I’ve abandoned many views that seemed mainstream years ago. I know better now. 

    This is a small personal example, but when our sons were babies more than 30 years ago, we had bumper pads on the crib and covered the boys with blankets. They also had stuffed animals in the crib to keep them company. I wouldn’t do it now, given what we’ve learned about babies smothering and sudden infant death syndrome. I didn’t know better then, but I’ve learned and changed.

    Sometime in the last 10 years I read that commenting on someone’s non-European name was ‘othering’. Until it was pointed out, I had no idea. I thought my remarks would be seen as taking an interest in the person. Now I understand those comments are offensive and I no longer say them.

    I don’t know what the MIA curator learned—if her perspective about artistic merit broadened or if she gained an enhanced cultural awareness. I’m grateful she acknowledged the change and hope museum-goers don’t judge her on her past views without considering her evolved views.

    People do learn, regret, try to improve, and change. I certainly have. I also realize what seems right and appropriate today may very well be judged harshly forty years from now. 

    , , , ,

    9 responses to “Rethinking”

    1. Rachel McAlpine Avatar

      Luanne, in New Zealand adoption activism has been mainstream for decades. We adopted our baby girl in 1969 and the tide began turning within a couple of years. All has been well, we know and love her birth mother, who also did what seemed best at the time.

    2. Bev Bachel Avatar

      I have been dealing with a lot of regrets lately…appreciate the reminder that we can and do change.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        When I feel that way, I try to remind myself that I used my best judgment at the time. Later I might know more and do differently.

    3. Luanne Avatar

      Ellen, good post! I agree with this to about 98%. Sometimes the reanalysis needs to be reanalyzed, but for the most part all of this is good stuff. Case in point: adoption. When my husband and I adopted our kids we didn’t think it through too much. We wanted children, and Korea had babies who needed homes. Perfect match. Now I know that a lot more effort needs to be put in keeping babies with their birth parent(s) or at least culture. I used to see adoption from the point of an adoptive parent only. Now I try to see it from the perspective of adoptees and birth parents, as well. Lots of adoption activism going on, but it’s still not really breaking into the mainstream yet.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        You make an excellent point! You used your best judgment at the time. Now your understanding has broadened.

    4. Ann Coleman Avatar

      I think that’s why honest and respectful communication is so important! Unless we listen to each other, we have no idea when we’re causing offense.

    5. Eliza Waters Avatar

      Live and learn, as they say. We continue to evolve, hopefully for the better.


Recent Posts

  • Hamburger Soup

    A bowl of homemade soup could create a few minutes of comfort in this difficult winter of 2025-2026.

  • Choosing to Believe

    A few weeks ago, I visited Pearl Harbor and the USS Arizona memorial. I wasn’t sure what to expect. My father was in the Navy during WWII at Normandy and later in the Pacific. I wanted to honor his service and the legacy of my parents’ generation who sacrificed and died to preserve our democracy. I…

  • Moving On

    “Crystel’s carrying the dining room table out of the house!” Jody said, a note of panic in her voice. “Now the chairs!” Quietly, I felt proud of Crystel. She was going ahead with gumption, emptying our house while we were in Florida, not asking permission, not making a fuss. Jody kept tabs on the coming…