"You're lucky you're not perfect. You have the chance to improve."
True, her words were in reference to the posture we had just held (or, in my case, fell out of), but it's a piece of advice universally applicable. When we accept that we are not perfect, we allow ourselves to acknowledge our strengths and weaknesses, and can begin the process of working to becoming a better person.
I've been very self-reflective as of late, having piled my plate up extra high with commitments. I have a history of doing this, of taking on too much until I feel overwhelmed and worry that I'll never get it all done. It's a habit I've never really been able to break, ever since high school, when I would sit on my bed and stress over how I would get all my homework done, study for my AP tests, go to dance class, run track, participate in class council and a number of other clubs, and somehow find time in there to sleep (I'm pretty sure I only devoted 4 or so hours to that a night at the time).
Now, I know you may be asking "why do you do this to yourself?" I realize I may sound like I'm complaining, but really I'm not. I thrive on that stress. It terrifies me, I get anxious, but then I get it done, I get it done well and I check it off my list. And I feel better.
And, more often than not, the extra commitments are things I take on because I want to do them. I've started writing for a website, wineandfoodtravel.com, once a week, which essentially embodies my favorite things in the world: wine, food and travel. Having the opportunity to write weekly about my travels, meals and wine is not an obligation, but a pleasure.
As well, I have recently enrolled in the Wine and Spirit Education Trust (WSET) Diploma, a two-year wine education program that is the next level up from the advanced certificate I earned while studying in New York. It's a huge commitment - financially and with regards to time - but something I feel will truly make me knowledgeable and credible in the industry I want to be in.
Sometimes that's hard to remember when I'm up to my ears in trellising systems and cold stabilization (just two things of many that I will be tested on in December), but deep down I know this was the right time to start on this journey. After all, I'm living in the heart of wine country - is there really any better place to be learning about how to make it?
Or any better place to be drinking it, for that matter. I realize I'm getting spoiled when it comes to the quality of what I've been drinking, like last night when I went to dinner in San Francisco and instead of ordering wine off the menu, Rory piled a case of Terra Valentine wines into my car and we opened them, one by one for our party of 16.
The dinner was for the birthday of one of Christina's friends. We had gotten ready at the home of the owners of Terra Valentine, where Rory was "house-sitting" for the weekend. If you recall from previous posts, Rory seems to do this quite a lot, which results in me ending up in a mansion on top of a mountain quite frequently. Again, I'm not complaining.
The view was amazing and I was primed to be in a good mood, after spending the afternoon with Layla Fanucci at Charter Oak Winery, whom I've written about before. Layla is an artist, her husband (and her son) a winemaker, and they work together on these passions from the home that her husband's grandfather, Guido, had built in the 1880s. I'll be writing about her in my article this week on wineandfoodtravel.com - and I drank the bottle of 2008 Charter Oak Zinfandel that she had given me yesterday with the dinner I cooked with Nathalie tonight (a very interpretative take on chana masala with the spices we had in our kitchen).
It was one of the last dinners we'll be cooking in this kitchen; we've both announced that we'll be moving out on December 1. This house was a perfect transition to my life out here in Napa, but it's time to move on. I'll be moving to a home where I'll feel more "at home."
In a way, it's sad - I'll miss this house, the view, the memories. I read through some of my first posts on this blog earlier today and felt a pang of longing for how open I was when I first arrived. Now, after nearly six months, Napa has become real life. I have a routine. Every day isn't an adventure anymore.
Is that a bad thing? I don't know. But, I do know that I miss that feeling of everything being exciting, of being motivated by the possibility of meeting new people and experiencing new things each day. Why is it that this feeling fades over time?
On Thursday I'll be leaving for San Diego to work at the San Diego Bay Wine and Food Festival, an opportunity that's both professionally and personally exciting for me. Then, I'll be back east for a week to see family and friends for the Thanksgiving holiday. And, when I get back - I'll be starting a new chapter.
I'm excited, anxious, overwhelmed. It's a lot to absorb in one month. Yet, I've had plenty of practice in balance. And, I can't expect it to be perfect. All I can hope is to do the best that I can - and allow room for improvement.
No comments:
Post a Comment