Welcome to My Blog
Happy New Year!
Welcome to the launch of my new website and my first blog post.
I’m so excited to connect with you.
In fact, in the spirit of connection, I nicknamed my blog, L’Apéritif.
The apéritif, or apéro for short, is a time-honored tradition in France. It’s a cocktail served while guests mingle before a dinner party or enjoyed while preparing a dinner at home or with friends at a café. It’s as much a refreshing drink as it is a social moment. A ritual.
My hope is that my blog offers us the chance to come together, to mingle. There are a million ideas dancing around in my head, and I’ll never have enough time to see them all through to a creative end. A blog gives me an outlet for these musings, and it’s here, in a place of reflection, where I so value the thoughts and ideas of my students and readers. Your comments and questions broaden my perspective, for sure, helping me decide what ideas to explore further, what to tweak, and what to put to bed.
In other words, you are my inspiration!
The yearning to bring my love of travel, history, art, design, literature, and writing together under one creative umbrella has been on a slow burn for years. Decades, probably. Then, along came 2020, setting that desire on fire.
New York, New York 2020
Oh, 2020.
This past year was a time of anxiety, frustration, and isolation—the pandemic causing us to sweep our routines and sense of normalcy under the rug, while at the same time dragging in brand new dangers, new challenges, new pain, and plunking them down right there in the middle of the living room like an ill-placed chunk of furniture.
Our perspective on any personal difficulties we’d been facing before the pandemic hit shifted, some struggles suddenly seeming insignificant, others now exacerbated. In stranger moments, my private troubles felt like nothing and something all at once.
2020 also turned out to be a year of reflection, slowing down, and deeper connection with the few that were part of our trusted bubbles.
For my part, my husband and I had permanently separated just prior to the lockdown, abruptly ending our fifteen-year marriage. Early in the quarantine, I was grateful for the opportunity to retreat from the world and focus on healing myself and our two children. Then the roller coaster of grief and isolation set in and I found myself digging a very deep emotional hole. Eventually, I emerged, though in an altogether undramatic fashion. There were no big a-ha’s or throwing back the curtains to let the sunlight in. Instead, I simply started breathing a little more deeply and incorporating teensy-weensy self-care routines.
Over time, my creative juices started flowing again. I even published an essay about my divorce. I also found myself dusting off a few short stories to ready them for the submission process and started to outline a novel I’d been toying with before my personal world had blown up, side-by-side with the world at large.
I was reminded of past travels and began daydreaming again of far-flung destinations.
Atlas Mountains, Morocco 2017
Then, I started turning over the idea of creating a collection of online courses, highly curated for the history, art, design, and travel lover. I couldn't stop imagining beautifully designed courses with a high-tech touch. I wanted to provide an experience, transporting students to another place and time. The courses would offer a guided, curated tour for travelers wanting to learn about a destination ahead of time or provide a virtual trip for someone looking to deepen their knowledge on a niche topic.
The history lesson, reimagined.
Travel planning, redefined.
I turned the idea over again and again. Until one day I realized I was working day and night developing course content, teaching myself how to launch a marketing campaign, and creating this website and blog. I was in the muck, happy as a clam.
None of this happened overnight. I think the biggest lesson I learned during the grieving process is that it is not linear. Anything but. Progress was so slight as to be undetectable, then it would arrive like a tsunami—only to recede again leaving me even rawer and more exposed than I’d been before trying to take a step forward.
I am gradually learning how to be okay with the setbacks. Not easy for this perfectionist. And I’m learning to be okay with the grief of losing my marriage, which I doubt will ever go away. It’s taken up residence in my heart and hits me out of the blue and square in the face some days. All I can do is feel it and let it pass through. We zig, we zag.
No process is a straight arrow. The creative process included. This website has been a whirlwind effort in the final months of 2020, and I’ve been encouraged by some very smart and talented women to put perfection aside and go LIVE. Heeding their advice, I’ve come to view my website as a living thing, a platform that evolves alongside my key learnings, my business, my travels, my writing and reading, my inspirations, and, most especially, my conversations with readers.
I can’t wait to hear from you!
In France, when giving a toast, one says “à votre santé” or “santé” (to your health). At this point, I’m stealing shamelessly from the French, but à votre santé seems to be such an appropriate tribute as we turn the corner into 2021.
May we all thrive in our physical, mental, and spiritual health this year.
À votre santé,
Heather
P.S. Perhaps I did have one big lightning bolt moment during my grieving process and the lockdown. Afterall, I did somehow exit 2020 with a quarantine puppy!
Hood River, Oregon
