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| Caroline in Central Park New York City |
March 3, 2016, plane to Newark, NYC.
I am out of
captivity and flying again. This time to NYC for the 10-year reunion of my chef
program at the Natural Gourmet Institute for Health and Culinary Arts.
My apologies for not writing sooner, to
anyone out there who has been following me, but there have been many
transitions in my life, among a major transitional period for me, and I have
not felt settled or inspired to write.
I see that the last time I blogged I was in
NYC last November. It seems like I blog best when I am travelling. I can blog
at home but there is something about leaving the routine behind at home with
all the expectations and hopes I have for myself, and setting out with a carry-on
suitcase, my tablet, and my cell/camera, that is freeing.
This reminds me of the Netflix TV series About a Boy when the lead is babysitting
his best friend’s little girl and she cannot go to the washroom, number 2,
without her dad being there to hold her hand and sing her a song. It seems that
way with blogging for me, in that I cannot produce a blog post without travelling,
though I don’t want to equate with my blogs with turds!
I do want to equate travelling as my hand
holding. It provides me with comfort and freedom at the same time. It’s like
when my mom or dad held my hand when they took me to the playground when I was
little, and then I let go of their hand as I ran to the tall slide or swings,
looking back at them once in a while to see if they were still there. That’s
how I feel about travel. I am supported by many and then I let go, running
toward new adventures and journeys, which I am anxious to share with readers
through blogging.
I’ve been busy working on publishing my
book The Accidental Chef, with vignettes and recipes or I call taste memories from my life. I am also getting my web site and blog going in a bigger way, and have moved to
Toronto to do this and take advantage of other opportunities. I love Ottawa and
have spent decades there but felt it was time to be return to my roots, be closer
to family and best friends, and take the next right step as Oprah would say.
"If you don’t know where to go, just take
the next right step," advised Oprah in the talk she gave in Ottawa. I try to
remember that when I’m confused or paralyzed by fear of making a big move,
making a mistake, taking the wrong turn, and the inner critic starts taking
control of the steering wheel, pushing me toward places that I don’t want to go.
Instead, lately, when I remember, I’ve been
pushing the brakes, gently of course, thank the critic, and let myself out. I
start walking, taking big gulps of fresh air so I remember I am free. I put my
hands to my heart so I remember to listen to my heart and intuition. And I
start taking the next right step. When I did this in January, I ended up in
Toronto, and when I looked up again I was heading to NYC. 