Introducing our special guest writer, Jessi Ceiri! Jessi brings a wealth of expertise to the table as a NASM certified personal trainer, Yoga Foster kids yoga instructor, and running coach. With a fervent dedication to helping individuals integrate fitness into their lives in a personalized and sustainable way, Jessi’s philosophy centers around the belief that everyone can incorporate strength and mobility training into their routines. Drawing from her expertise as a former elementary school PE teacher and her current role managing Charm City Run Fells Point, Jessi’s passion for fitness shines through in her approachable and holistic perspective. Whether she is designing comprehensive workout programs that encompass strength, balance and cardio, or hitting the pavement with her beloved french bulldog, Bronx, Jessi embodies the essence of living a balanced and active lifestyle.
Dude, some days the will to workout is nowhere to be found. Yes, we all know that building routines and habits is the best way to stay on track with your fitness routine. One of my favorite ways to do this is to schedule my workouts for the week in my Google calendar on Sunday nights so they show up just like a meeting at work. But what happens when you’ve done all that and you still need a little convincing to start your workout?
Here are some of the ways I can motivate myself to get a workout in when I am just not feeling it.
Make plans to workout with a friend. Invite them to take a class with you, or go for a run or walk. Once you are accountable to someone else, you are less likely to skip.
Yup, sometimes it’s that simple. If you go for a run this morning, you can buy coffee at the coffee shop instead of making it at home. That one works for me. I can be convinced to do lots of things for caffeine.
Buying a new workout outfit or a pair of workout shoes is usually enough to get me excited for a workout. I can’t wear my new clothes if I don’t workout, right? (Who am I kidding, I live in athletic clothes, but I do separate my “workout” clothes from my “everyday” athletic clothes.)
Get excited with a new playlist. Or pick an audiobook and you are only allowed to listen to it during your workouts. Now, you are looking for excuses to workout so you can listen to that next chapter.
Jessi Ceiri is a NASM certified personal trainer, Yoga Foster kids yoga instructor, and a running coach who has a passion for helping people incorporate fitness into their lives in a way that works for them. Learn more about working with Jessi and sign up for a FREE consultation here.
5. Hire a personal trainer
A trainer can help you come up with a workout routine that works for you. It also gives you someone else to be accountable to. If your trainer shows up at your house for a session, you have to let them in (hopefully…that would be really mean otherwise).
What other tricks do you use when you’re not motivated to workout? Let us know in the comments below!
Introducing our special guest writer, Deborah Starr, RN! With years of experience in healthcare and a passion for holistic wellness, Deborah brings valuable insights and practical tips to help us navigate the journey toward better health. In this blog post, Deborah shares her expertise on how to love yourself through healthy eating without sacrificing flavor. Get ready to discoversimple yet powerful ways to transform your favorite recipes into nourishing delights that support your heart and overall well-being. Let’s dive in and learn how small changes in our culinary choices can make a big difference in our health journey.
Loving yourself by eating healthy doesn’t mean not loving the taste. A few changes in your favorite recipes can help reduce calories, unhealthy fats and salt. Yet they will keep the taste yummy.
Thickening soup? Skip the flour or cornstarch. Try pureed cannellini beans instead. You won’t get that pasty flavor. You will get fiber and protein!
Making brownies or cookies? Mash an avocado and use instead of half the butter. You’ve just replaced half the fat. Don’t try to replace all the butter. For food science-y reasons, this won’t work.
Very finely ground flaxseed + 3 tbsp of water may be substituted for an egg in some baking. You’ve added fiber and reduced cholesterol. This won’t work if the recipe calls for the eggs to be whipped or in an item like a quiche, where the eggs make most of the structure.
Non-fat Greek yogurt is the over-looked cooking hero. Use it instead of mayonnaise or sour cream in dips, salads, sandwiches, and sauces. If you want the tarter bite of the mayo or sour cream, make it half Greek yogurt and the others. Better yet, add a few drops of lemon juice to the Greek yogurt. You trade up to healthy fat in a big way and reduce calories.
Forget bottled salad dressing high in preservatives and salts. Go for some rice wine vinegar or balsamic vinegar. Add some walnut oil or honey, and voila — delicious, easy and healthy. Your heart adores it!
Do you use breadcrumbs? Next time the container is empty, wipe it out and refill it with whole oats you ground up a bit in a food processor. You can’t taste the difference. They work exactly the same in recipes. No added salt or preservatives. Higher in fiber than the breadcrumbs. Fabulous, right?
Cauliflower for mashed potatoes — you know this, right? Drizzle with olive oil. Add some garlic. Make life easy and use the food processor.
Spaghetti squash for pasta. It does taste a bit different, but it is still delicious and so much healthier. The squash has fewer calories, more vitamins and fiber. Cut the spaghetti squash in half, put it cut side down in a baking pan, and roast until just getting soft. Then pull out the strings of squash with a fork. Serve with your favorite sauce.
Applesauce may be used to replace oil in baking, a 1:1 ratio. 1/4 cup of applesauce may replace 1 egg. Try using applesauce to replace 1 cup of sugar. You also have to reduce 1/4 cup of liquid elsewhere in the recipe (water, milk, etc.) or you will have a soggy mess. This cuts out a ton of calories and adds fiber. It will alter flavor, so keep in mind which recipes you use this in (think oatmeal raisin cookies and gingerbread, but maybe not peanut butter cookies).
A few easy changes can make a huge difference to your health and heart. So go ahead and show yourself some love. Take the time to care for yourself and those around you.
The holidays are a busy time of year. Between shopping for gifts, holiday parties, preparing for the end of the year, and keeping up with our regular commitments, it can be difficult to find little pockets of serenity amidst the chaos. But the holidays are also a beautiful time of warmth and reflection. It is a time to nurture our wellness, to spend time with loved ones, and to recall traditions that give us a sense of home.
This holiday season, find balance and tranquility amidst the busyness with these six tips to help you practice mindfulness and focus on the beauty of the present moment.
Take a few moments each day to focus on your breath. You can have this at a regularly scheduled time or just when you feel your stress levels rising. Take a deep inhale through your nose, hold for a few seconds, and then exhale through your nose or mouth. Repeat a few rounds of this, allowing your eyes to gently close if you are in a safe space to do so, and/or focus on your surroundings: What can you see, hear, smell, taste and touch? Bringing our awareness to our five senses helps to ground us in the present moment. Paired with mindful breathing, it can help calm our minds and help us come back to what is happening now, instead of focusing on what has happened or will occur.
Saying “no” can be challenging, especially to activities we feel obligated to attend or to people we know are expecting us to show up, but it is a right you reserve. You are the only person who can protect your peace. And saying “no” to some events and activities may mean you are able to be more invested in the activities that mean more to you and be more present with the people who matter most. Protect your time, and make sure you are leaving enough space to take care of yourself. Just because there is a block of free time on the calendar does not mean it should be filled with another event or activity.
There are plenty of delicious holiday treats around this time of year. First, know that you can eat whatever you please. Food is fuel — there are more nutrient dense foods and less nutrient dense foods, but all of it is food. As long as we are making an effort for the majority of our diets to be more nutrient dense, treats can be a regular and healthy part of our nutritional intake. And at this time of year, food can take on an extra special meaning for us. The holidays just don’t seem the same if I do not get to enjoy a gingerbread cookie or a glass of eggnog.
Enjoy your food and the memories that come with it, but when you do so, enjoy it mindfully. Engage your five senses again — what can you see, taste, feel, smell, and hear? Pay attention to your surroundings as you enjoy these treats. Appreciate the warm glow from your Christmas tree or the sounds of laughter from the party. Eating mindfully will not only help you truly enjoy these treats, but it will help curb any overindulgence that can lead to painful inflammation and stomach discomfort later.
5. Create Rituals for Relaxation
Create space in your calendar for rest, and spend this time taking care of you. Try meditation, yoga and gentle stretching, or sipping some herbal tea with a good book. Engage in one of your favorite hobbies, or try a new holiday-themed craft. Establishing these rituals before bedtime can also help create a routine that signals to your body that it is time to rest. This will help you fall asleep faster and aid your mind and body in better recovery, so you can enjoy all the holiday festivities even more.
Me hiking in Frederick, MD
6. Connect with Nature
We are a part of nature, and nature is a part of us. We are meant to spend time outdoors in the fresh air, but as the weather cools, many of us find ourselves cooped up inside more than usual. Bundle up and get back out there! Enjoy a walk, engage in grounding activities, or simply sit outside with a hot drink.
Many of us also struggle with Vitamin D deficiencies in the winter because of the lack of sunlight, which can lead to feelings of sadness and depression. If you can, spend time outdoors during hours when there is sunshine, or invest in a sun lamp to help bring the sunshine with you indoors.
The holiday season is a beautiful time of connection and celebration. With these six tips, I hope you are able to find moments of rest within the busyness and more spaces for serenity and joy. I wish you a very healthy and happy holiday season and a serene beginning to your new year.
It was in July of 2020 that Joseph and I decided we wanted to visit all 50 states. That is why, three years later, I woke up in a tent in the mountains of West Virginia to cross state number eighteen off our list.
Our campsite had was located on a small farm. On my way to the restroom to get ready, I was greeted by a black and white cat and three bleating goats who wanted all the head scratches I was willing to offer. After getting ready and cleaning up our campsite, Joseph and I drove through a misty morning in the green mountains to Cass Scenic Railroad State Park.
I had booked us one of the longest train rides offered, which would take us to the summit of Bald Knob, the tallest mountain in Pocahontas County. We arrived early at the park, so we spent the next hour exploring the shops and snacking on homemade peanut butter and chocolate fudge. When the time for our trip finally arrived, we boarded the Shay locomotive, one of the original trains used for logging all the way back to 1901.
Trudging up the mountain to Bald Knob
I was filled with a childish glee when the trains whistle rang through the air and we began the slow chug up the mountain. Black smoke billowed into the sky above us as we sat on the wooden benches and watched the trees pass by the open air car.
I do not know why I was under the impression the train ride would be three hours, filled with gorgeous panoramic views the entire way. Mostly, it was trees, and what should have been a short afternoon became nearly five hours of sitting on uncomfortable benches as the train trudged up and down the mountain. We were rewarded at the top with a beautiful view of the Appalachian Mountains, but as we slowly made our way back down the mountain, I was beginning to think it would have been faster just to hike our way up instead.
It was supposed to be a relaxed day, but by the end of the train ride, our legs were aching from sitting all day, and neither of us were much enthused by the idea of going to our campsite. We were tired from a week of traveling and exhausted from a day that had been much less exciting than we had anticipated. With very limited wifi, we discovered we were not all that far away from where we had planned to go the following day. Ready for a little taste of adventure, we decided to move that hike to this evening and then drive home a day early, where we could enjoy the final day of our vacation in the comfort of our own house.
The final stop of our trip was Blackwater Falls State Park. As soon as we arrived, we were greeted by a black bear running across the road in front of us, and we took that as a good omen we had made the right decision.
We hurried down the slippery wooden stairs to the overlook of the falls — a gorgeous view of the amber colored water that spilled over the black rocks and pummeled into the river below. We stood in the cool spray of the water and breathed a sigh of contentment. It was a beautiful view, one I was glad we had not bypassed in our frustration with the day and sudden eagerness to return home.
We hiked a little farther to see the Balanced Rock, which was a large slate of stone balanced precariously upon a tower of boulders. Wet with sweat from the muggy, West Virginia air, we returned to our car just as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, and began the drive home.
As we drove the six hours home beneath the starry night sky, I gazed out my window in awe of red, blue and gold fireworks bursting overhead. We were just a few days away from Independence Day, and it seemed the nearby towns in West Virginia had decided this was the night to celebrate. I was reminded vividly of our trip to Colorado, when we had made the decision to spend a few days extra in the state to see the 4th of July fireworks in Salida. Sitting beneath that mountain on the hood of Joseph’s car, sipping wine as we watched the cyclists cruise down the mountain and fireworks burst overhead, is one of my most treasured memories. It was the beginning of a new season in our lives, and of so many adventures ahead.
I would not normally be one to so amicably agree to return home early from a trip, much less be the one to suggest it. Normally, I want to soak up as much of our travels as possible. But in the last year, I have begun living my life differently. Instead of waiting for our adventures, I have created ones in my everyday life. I have pursued the career of my dreams, and in my free time, I do the things I enjoy. I have focused my attention on being present and noticing the little joys life brings, instead of going through the motions. I have spent more time on self-care, so I do not feel as though I am sleeping through my days because of exhaustion and burnout. In the last year, I have, for the first time in my life, dedicated myself to creating a life I love. And that is a life I do not mind returning home early for, as long as my travel buddy is by my side.
Joseph and I sitting on his car waiting for fireworks on Independence Day in Salida, CO (2020)
It’s strange to think that, three years ago, in Colorado, we were living through a global pandemic. I had lost my business. Joseph and I had just gotten engaged, and we were ready to embark on wherever that adventure would take us. Little did we know, we would be getting married within a year. That we would restart the business together, and build a team of incredible people I enjoy working with every day. That we would already have crossed eighteen states off our list, with the plan to be halfway done with our goal of visiting all fifty by the end of this year.
We did not know what the future would bring. In July of 2020, we were simply content to be sitting side by side on Joseph’s car, watching the fireworks and knowing, whatever came next, we would be doing it together.
I smiled to myself and reached for Joseph’s hand beside mine as I watched the fireworks burst overhead. Despite three years filled with adventures, not much has changed at all, and I could not be more grateful.
The one thing I told myself not to forget for our hike in Red River Gorge was bug spray. After reading the reviews online, in which everyone mentioned the malicious nature of the bugs on the trail, I knew it would be a miserable hike without it. In the morning, I filled our waters, packed myself an extra snack, and even remembered to charge my Garmin watch so I could put my phone away and only need to quickly glance at my wrist to check the time. But I forgot the bug spray.
We were only a short distance into the trail when I realized my critical error. Joseph offered for us to turn back, but we were already running a little behind schedule, and I thought, how bad could it really be?
Bad. Incredibly uncomfortable. Every step involved swatting another bug away while I felt another bite me somewhere else. We were only a mile in, and I already wanted to be finished with the hike.
Thankfully, the bugs drifted away a little as the trees became thicker. We were greeted by new creatures instead — a long, black snake; a cute turtle that remained paralyzed with fear on the trail until we were out of sight; and little snails curled up in their shells. It was not until we were quite a few miles into the hike that we reached our first overlook at one of the arches.
Me looking out at the view of Courthouse Rock from an arch at Red River Gorge
The arches were amazing. The rock formations had naturally created archways on the edges of cliffs that overlooked the valley below. We sat in the shade of the rock balanced above our heads and gazed out at the lush green valley. It would have been a gorgeous view, had we not been dripping with sweat from the muggy air and being attacked by bugs now that we were out of the trees once again.
We continued our hike, which took us all the way back down into and across the valley to climb up Courthouse Rock, another large rock formation that rose overtop the trees like a gigantic monolith. From our vantage point, we could see the arches we had hiked to before. When we finally arrived back at our car, our clothes were soaked and skin was wet with sweat. I was beginning to wonder why I had ever decided it would be a good idea to visit Kentucky in June.
Showers, unfortunately, were a luxury we could not yet have, but coffee was thankfully within the realm of possibilities. We stopped for drinks and lunch and then began the long drive back into West Virginia to go to New River Gorge.
We crossed over the bridge that overlooked the peaceful river below. This was one part of the trip I had been nervously awaiting since planning. Within the hour, we would be strapped into harnesses and walking the catwalk beneath the bridge we were currently driving across.
We had arrived earlier than expected, so we walked around the gift shop and read about the history of the park while we waited for our tour. New River is one of the earliest rivers in North America. It was named a National River in 1978, and designated as a National Park and Preserve in 2021. It is wild to me to think that even after Joseph and I began our journey of crossing off all fifty states, new National Parks have been added to the list to visit.
When the time for our tour arrived, we joined the small crowd of people to learn how to strap on our harnesses and listen to the required safety rules and regulations. Then, we piled into a bus and enjoyed a quick, minute-long ride back to the gift shop we had come from to walk to the bridge.
Gazing out at the gorge and the white water rushing below, I felt my stomach sink. Heights are not normally a fear of mine, as long as my feet feel stable on solid ground. However, as soon as I feel my feet cannot safely carry me, I can send myself into a panic as I think through all of the worst scenarios. In this moment, I had an image of me crawling my way across the catwalk, and I wondered what I had gotten myself into.
Our group followed a dirt path down to the start of the bridge. Above us, the metal rattled and shook beneath the weight of the trucks and cars zooming across. The bridge sat 876 feet above the water. Before us, a half-mile long stretch of metal — the catwalk — loomed between metal beams that held the bridge in place.
Joseph went first, and I followed close behind. At my first step on the metal, everything inside of me seemed to go quiet. The tight unease in my stomach loosened. I felt light and inexplicably safe. Standing so high, at a place not many people go, to appreciate a view so many drive past without even noticing, it felt I had been awarded an amazing gift.
The view was stunning. The blue water rushed below us and wound away in the distance through rolling hills and mountains covered with thick green trees. The evening summer sun bathed the valley in golden light. The catwalk left just enough room for our feet — at any moment, we could step our boots sideways and feel the drop in our stomachs as they hung over the edge. Anytime a smidge of fear drifted in, however, it was quickly abated by our tour guide, who kept us in stitches as we walked with stories from his many years living in West Virginia. Overall, it was one of the most beautiful views I have seen, on one of the easiest hikes I have ever done. It is well worth the experience for anyone at any age.
We finished sooner than I had hoped. Despite my unease about this part of the trip, I had wished it would not end. We drove into the nearby town to eat a quick dinner at Wood Iron Eatery, a small cafe with delicious, grilled sandwiches. Feeling satisfied, we drove into the setting sun for another night of camping.
We visited two gorges on day seven of our trip, and they were both incredibly different experiences. As I fell asleep, I found myself thinking back to our sweaty morning hike, which I had thought I would love and instead I could not wait to end, and then to our walk across the catwalk, which I had dreaded but then wished could go on forever. Both brought different levels of discomfort, but I realized I never really knew what an experience would bring, whether it frightened me or not, until I tried it for myself. You cannot know what life has to offer until you are willing to step outside of your comfort zone and truly experience it.
Sometimes, discomfort really is just uncomfortable. And sometimes, discomfort can be truly breathtaking.
It is the first thought I have when I wake in the morning, and one that plagues me throughout the day.
We got an early start to the sixth day of our trip when we were awoken by the roosters at our campsite screaming at one another. We packed up our campsite and got on the road, eager for our first stop of the day. As if we did not get in enough sugar the day before, we planned on stopping for some famous donuts for breakfast.
Unfortunately, the donut shop I had planned on us visiting was permanently closed, but that did not subdue our appetites. Instead, I did a little research as we drove, and we settled on visiting another donut shop on our way to Cumberland Falls. I was not at all disappointed with our decision.
Peace, Love and Little Donuts was founded in Pittsburgh, and now that I know that information, it is going to be rather difficult to sway me from taking a weekend trip just for these little treats. The shop offers a variety of donut flavors in mini donut form, and the option to make your own donut with your favorite toppings. To be clear, these are not donut holes – they are the traditionally shaped donut, just in miniature form. And they are delicious.
As soon as we walked into the shop, we were offered a fresh donut that had just come out of the machine. Who were we to refuse? The woman behind the counter handed us each a soft, warm donut to munch on while we decided what we wanted to buy. The sugared confection melted against our tongues and filled us with warmth all the way to our toes. I had never tasted a more delicious donut. It was light and soft, with just the perfect level of sweetness.
We each chose the flavor donut we wanted, and we watched as they grabbed a fresh, warm donut to adorn with the toppings we had chosen. Eager to enjoy, we rushed back to our car and drove a minute down the road to Starbucks, where we ordered coffees to enjoy with our treats.
Joseph had chosen a caramel macchiato donut, and it tasted exactly like the deluxe coffee drink – sweet caramel was drizzled over the coffee-flavored icing and topped with shaved chocolate. I ordered one of my favorite flavor combinations – lemon and blueberry. The delicious donut was slathered with a lemon icing and sugary powder and then topped with a spoonful of blueberry sauce. Every bite was the perfect combination of sweet and tart.
Now buzzing with a sugar rush, we jumped back in our car and drove the remaining hours to Cumberland Falls. On the way, we listened to the latest Noah Kahan album, Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever), and marveled at how good every single song was and how together they created such a meaningful and relatable story of love, loss, mental health struggles, and the complicated feelings surrounding one’s home.
We arrived at Cumberland Falls just as it began to rain. We grabbed our packs and began the muddy walk to the overlook of the falls — a beautiful, roaring cascade that fell in a large semi-circle over the rocks. The shape and grandness of the falls was reminiscent of a smaller version of Niagara Falls. I later learned that it is for this reason that Cumberland Falls has earned the nickname, “The Niagara of the South.” We then continued the steep and moderately difficult trek to Eagle Falls, which was hidden in a small cove that reminded me of the mermaid’s lagoon from Peter Pan. The stream of water rushed down into a pristine, blue stream that wound through the rocks to join the Cumberland River. I sat on a rock like Wendy in the fairytale, gazing at the beauty before me while enjoying the spray of the waterfall.
All too soon, it was time to hike back to our car. The humidity of the air dripped sweat over our bodies, so by the time we got back to our vehicle, we were hot and soaked as if we had taken a dip in the water. We ate a quick lunch and then began the long drive to our campsite for the evening. On the way, we stopped at the grocery store for some Kentucky fried chicken and french fries to enjoy for dinner. Our campsite was a secluded spot with picnic tables and Adirondack chairs seated around fire rings. We made a campfire and then sat back to relax as the sky darkened around us and lightning bugs flew around our heads.
As the day drew to an end, I found myself thinking about the adventures of the past few days, and the few that we still had to enjoy. For the first time during this trip, I realized we had fewer days ahead than those left behind. Soon enough, we would be returning to home. Noah Kahan’s song, “The View Between Villages” ran through my mind as I thought of returning to our lives left behind. There is a comfort to being home, with the people we love and the familiar life we know. But as a traveler at heart, I feel like every time I return home, I notice the staleness in the air. The familiarity begins to feel like monotony. The four walls surrounding me, which should provide comfort, sometimes can feel suffocating. I find myself longing for views of mountains, for the hours spent in the car listening to music, for the fresh air to fill my lungs once again and the feeling of truly being alive.
But I know, if I were to stay out here forever, this, too, would become less exciting. The hours in the car would drone on. I would long for a real bed, for a temperature controlled environment, for clean clothes and showers. I would miss my family, my friends and my puppy. And as I have begun to create a life I love, I feel like I would miss the work I am doing, my community, and the team we have built.
I know why traveling feels more peaceful than home sometimes does – home is supposed to be filled with happiness and comfort, but it is also filled with all the struggles we have experienced, all the things we have lost and the memories long since left behind. Home, which should be our most peaceful place, is sometimes a bitter reminder of everything it is not.
Therefore, there is something exciting about the escape and the adventure that exists outside of home. I find a sense of familiarity in the mountains that call my name, and with Joseph by my side, I do wonder how long I could go without missing what I have left behind. But like anything else — the adventure, the holiday season, the people we love — it is the finality in them, the tragedy of endings, that makes the time sweet.
I hear the lyrics run through my head – The car’s in reverse, I’m gripping the wheel, I’m back between villages and everything’s still. I gaze around the beautiful, still night around me, close my eyes, and take in a deep breath of the sweet air. The adventure is almost over.
No, I tell myself, reversing the direction of my mind. I look to Joseph and grip his hand in mine. Life is about more than road trips and exploring new places. It’s about love, connection and the imprint we leave behind, and that, I realize, is more than enough reason to return. The adventure has just begun.
As someone certified as a nutrition coach, I know how important food is to our physical health. The phrase “food is fuel” is a frequent one in my industry. I know how many servings of carbohydrates, fats, proteins and vegetables a person should have in a day. I know how the micronutrients of different foods affect our health, and which foods to eat for different nutrient deficiencies. I know the power food has in our body, that it can be used as medicine for a number of different ailments, and it can also be a catalyst for a number of diseases.
I also know that food is more than just fuel. Good food is made with passion and love. Our sense of taste and a certain food can take us back to meaningful moments in our lives. Food plays a role in culture, family, holidays and special events. Food can be comforting. If we are honest with ourselves, our most favorite foods are most often not the foods that are the healthiest for our bodies, but rather evoke feelings and memories that are meaningful to us.
When planning our itinerary, I had not meant to create a day of our trip entirely dedicated to food, but day five was exactly that – no hiking, no boat rides through caverns, no long drives. Just food experience after food experience for an entire day. And to be honest, it was one of the days I was most looking forward to.
We began our morning with a short drive back into Louisville and then a walk under the hot sun to the Angel’s Envy distillery. As I mentioned in my first blog post for this trip, I had planned this road trip for Joseph’s birthday, and this tour was included just for him. Joseph’s drink of choice is bourbon, and his favorite bourbon is Angel’s Envy. I will admit, bourbon has always tasted, at best, like hand sanitizer to me, but I was still very excited for the tour because I knew Joseph would love it.
When we walked in, an older gentleman behind the front desk greeted us as Sir and Lady Mauler from Maryland.
“Do you know what the state sport is in Maryland?” he asked. Both Joseph and I looked at each other blankly. “This will be important for the tour later.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. The older man’s eyes twinkled.
“Yes, jousting, remember that.” He looked down at his computer. “And I see this is a special occasion, a birthday.” I grinned as the man reached into his desk and then handed Joseph a silver Angel’s Envy lapel pin. The gentleman told us to meet him back in the lobby at the time of our tour, and then directed us into the adjacent gift shop. Joseph and I perused the items until the time came, when we joined our group.
The older gentleman introduced himself as our tour guide, and then went around to ask where everyone was from. When he got to us, he paused after we said our state, and then asked again,
“What’s the state sport in Maryland?”
“Um, I think it’s…jousting,” Joseph said, feigning a faint memory.
“Neither did they,” the tour guide said, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Our tour guide lead us into the first room, where we were greeted with a wall of photos. He told us about the history of Angel’s Envy – how it was started by a father and son, both of whom were distillers. We learned about the strict laws surrounding bourbon – that it must be made in the United States; made using at least fifty-one percent corn; aged for at least two years in new, charred-oak barrels; must not be distilled higher than 160 proof; and must not contain any flavorings or colorings, among other strict guidelines. Angel’s Envy, apparently, made quite a stir when it hit the market because there is a special flavor to it that is unlike other bourbons. The bourbon policers (whomever those people may be) said it could not be a bourbon because they must have added some sort of flavoring. But, in fact, no flavoring had been added – after doing all the necessary requirements for it to be bourbon, Angel’s Envy distilled their bourbon a second time in a port wine casks, which gives it its distinct flavor. To avoid any grumblings, they labelled their product as a “finished” bourbon.
We were lead through the distillery to see how the ingredients are milled and fermented, and we were given the opportunity to taste the bourbon at all different phases. We first tried the fermented corn mash, which had the texture of porridge and had a sour taste. We were then given the opportunity to taste the bourbon in its purest form, when it was still clear, before being poured into barrels to age. It was poured into our hands, and we were encouraged to splash a little on our cheeks and take a small sip, if we dared. The liquid burned against my skin like aftershave and stung my brain. I was left gasping for air, both from the burning shock and surprised laughter.
We watched workers bottle the brown elixir, and learned that the company just recently received a machine to label the bottles. Until about a month ago, every bottle was labeled by hand. We were then lead into a beautiful, wooden room, where upon a long table two snifters filled with brown liquid and two chocolates, one dark and one white, had been placed at each seat.
“I’ve had many people, mostly women, come up and tell me before the tour that they don’t like bourbon,” our tour guide said. “Most of them bought this tour as a gift for their husbands.” I glanced at Joseph with a stifled laugh. “And I tell them that’s fine. But I’ve had a lot of converts in this room.”
Our tour guide lifted a glass and swirled the drink. He taught us how to gaze at the amber color, how to sniff with our mouths open so we could taste the fumes. And then, we each took a sip and were instructed to hold it in our mouths, to swish it around with the “Kentucky chew” to coat each part of our mouths, and then swallow to let it burn all the way down. It rested warm in my chest, what our tour guide called the “Kentucky hug.”
Our delicious pairing of bourbon, whiskey and chocolates
The burn from drinking whiskey is from our brains panicking when alcohol is consumed. Our brains turn off our taste buds in an effort to protect us. But after a moment, our brain realizes the experience was not as bad as it originally thought, and it turns everything back on. And since everything has now been coated with the liquid, we have acclimated ourselves. Now, we can taste the actual notes and intimate tastes of the bourbon.
I took another sip, and my eyes widened in shock. It was sweet like maple syrup and finished with a bitter aftertaste reminiscent chocolate and vanilla. The burn was entirely gone, and I was left instead with one of the most delicious drinks I had ever tasted. We paired the drink with the dark chocolate, which had been infused with orange, and it literally tasted like a bite of fruity pebbles cereal.
Our guide served us next with the same drink on ice, or “on the rocks.” The cold enhanced the flavors and made the drink more aromatic. We were then encouraged to try the drink in our second sifter – a rye whiskey finished in a rum barrel. This drink, too, was smooth and subtly sweet – I could taste the sweet rum notes balanced by earthy undertones. When paired with the white chocolate beside it, a gorgeous cinnamon and maple flavor emerged that tasted like pancakes.
I had not expected myself to be so easily converted. Joseph literally jumped for joy when I told him how much I loved the bourbon, and as we walked the Louisville streets to get some food, we talked about all the delicious ways we could now enjoy this drink together.
For brunch, we went to Con Huevos, a fast-food Mexican breakfast and lunch spot. Joseph ordered carne asada tacos, and I ordered a muchos huevos sandwich as a salad. The food was fine – nothing to call home about, but it was warm, tasty and filled our stomachs, and that was all we needed.
We walked the local shops, all of which were much too far out of our budget, and then strode back to our car to drive to Schimpff’s Confectionery, a candy shop in Jeffersonville that is one of the oldest, continuously operated and family-owned candy businesses in the United States. Open since 1891, this candy shop located in downtown Jeffersonville offers not only a wide array of candy, but also a 1950s soda fountain, a room dedicated to candy-making memorabilia, and a long counter separated by a class partition where customers can watch the candy be made just as it was a hundred years ago.
Schimpff’s Confectionery
When we arrived, the next demonstration was forty-five minutes away, but we had nothing important to get to, so we decided to stay. I was so glad we did. We walked the shop, perusing the candies and old equipment. We were surprised to find a cast used to create root beer barrels just like the ones Joseph bought from the historic candy shop we went to in Harpers Ferry just a few days before. We came across wooden machine with levers, and an older gentleman walked up and told us it was the first vending machine. He asked if we had any coins. Unfortunately, I did not, but I told him it was still cool to see it. The man looked around, and then he reached behind the machine for a small bowl filled with coins. He handed one to me with a wink.
Excitedly, I entered the coin and chose a peanut butter flavored candy. I pushed the lever, and a panel of wood dropped down to reveal the candy I had chosen on a small shelf. I cannot even describe the amount of childlike glee that filled me when I saw it happen. Joseph and I walked back to the counter to watch the demonstration that was about to begin, and I was surprised to see the gentleman who had told us about the vending machine was the candy maker! It was his family who had owned this shop for over a century.
His wife, an older woman with grandmotherly presence, sat in a chair beside him, and she explained the process as we watched her husband pour the red candy; fold, massage and pull it to the consistency and and shape he wanted; cut it to size; and then roll sheets of the candy through a press to create rows and rows of square-shaped mounds. He took the sheets of candies and dropped them onto the counter, where they broke apart and scattered into perfect little cubes of bright red, cinnamon candies.
The candies were placed in each of our palms, and I was surprised to find they were still warm to the touch. Red Hots have never been my favorite candy, but when I popped this one in my mouth, I was immediately whisked away to the flavor of Christmas morning. The cinnamon was subtle, sweet and warm, more reminiscent of a cinnamon roll than a Fireball shot.
After the demonstration, we bought a whiskey truffle to enjoy on our way back to the car. Our next stop was the Mainstrasse Village in Covington, KY, a German-American village and a historic district in the National Register of Historic Places. It was a little difficult to find, but once we did, we were greeted with a large mural of Frida Kahlo and charming buildings that looked like they jumped off the page of a storybook.
We chose to go to Bouquet Restaurant and Wine Bar for dinner, one of the most highly-rated restaurants by Cincinnati Magazine. We decided to splurge a little and treat ourselves to a tasting menu, which gave us the option to choose one dish from each section of the menu, and we enjoyed it with their offering of wine pairings for each dish. Normally, Joseph and I do not share dishes – our taste in foods is quite different. But we were each feeling a little adventurous, and Joseph shocked me by thoroughly enjoying every plate set before us. He is normally a much pickier eater than I am, but tonight, it warmed my heart to be able to share my love of food with him in a way I never had been able to before.
Each dish was elegantly prepared. We began with a strawberry salad drizzled with balsamic reduction and topped with spring onion pesto, pepitas, and Kentucky rose cheese. For our second course, we chose the wagyu beef meatballs, which were served on top of a earthy butternut squash and black garlic puree, drizzled with a balancing herb gremolata and topped with a spicy chili crisp. Our third course was the famous maple leaf farms duck, which was served with a medley of mushrooms, roasted carrots, kale, and smoked grapes, served on top of an earthy parsnip purée and drizzled with a tangy balsamic gastrique. For dessert, we shared the coconut cake, which was dusted with a coconut snow and toasted coconut flakes and topped with a scoop of sweet and citrusy mango sorbet. For each dish, we savored each note and shared what we loved most and of the memories the flavors evoked.
After our meal and far too many glasses of wine, we walked the shops and savored the sweet evening. Our stomachs were still far too full when we decided to head to our next stop – an ice cream shop. I thought I would burst from the amount of sweets I had eaten already, but we were told by locals we could not leave without trying the famous ice cream from Graeter’s. Joseph ordered a scoop each of Dutch chocolate and coffee chip. I went for something a little lighter to round out the evening and ordered a scoop of lemon sorbet. We sat outside to enjoy our treat under the warm glow of the evening sun, our frozen treats melting in the warm air and against our tongues.
My love for food was something that inspired me to get certified in nutrition. In my own journey, which, as it is for most, has been filled with both negative and positive relationships with different foods, I have learned how much of a role food plays in our lives. Food is fuel, and it is also so much more than that. Food is medicine, and it is also art. Food can be comforting, off-putting, healing, or sickening. It can be new and exciting, or cultural and familial. Food can be used to learn more about new people and places. How exciting is it to go share your favorite food with a new friend? How familial and possibly annoying can the question, “Where do you want to eat tonight?” become among couples? How comforting is a warm bowl of soup when you are sick, or your mother’s cooking when you just feel homesick? Would life be as sweet without the first refreshing, juicy bite of watermelon in the summer, or the first sip of thick, hot cocoa during the holiday season?
Me popping the champagne when we opened our new Evolve Wellness office
I tell my clients that food is, in fact, fuel, but to think of fueling more than just their physical bodies. Food also fuels our minds and our souls. Eating mindlessly does nothing for us, but mindfully eating a scoop of ice cream and savoring the creaminess on our tongues as we watch the sunset and savor summer? I think that does much more good than it does harm. Yes, we should take care of our physical bodies, and food plays an enormous role in that. But I do believe taste is one of our main senses for a reason, and it’s not so we can punish ourselves by eating celery all day.
Taste is meant to remind us of moments we have left behind, and to savor the ones we have now. We use the phrase “I can almost taste it,” for something exciting that is coming. We reserve our lips and tongues only for the sweetest things in life, and there is something beautiful in that. So, fuel your bodies, eat from the earth, and heal yourself with food, movement and love. And then, when you want it, give yourself a big scoop of ice cream and savor it in the summer sun’s glow. And if you feel like that’s the wrong thing to do, remind yourself just how much you loved ice cream as a child, how much that little one deserves this scoop of joy, and that your friendly, traveling nutrition coach told you eating ice cream for your inner child is even more healing than eating the “healthier” alternative.
The fierce and hot Indiana sun awoke us as it streamed into our tent, baking us inside. We unzipped our tent door and gratefully gulped in the fresh air on the other side. The day had only just begun, and already, there was sweat dripping down my forehead and back.
Today’s plan was to drive south to Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. We stopped for coffee on the way and listened to our book on tape. When we arrived, we found the parking lot filled almost to capacity. I highly recommend booking your tour ahead of time, which, thankfully, I had the forethought to do before our trip.
We ate a quick lunch at our car and then walked around the air-conditioned discovery center and shop. I particularly enjoyed learning about how the caves formed and the other life forms that live within them. Mammoth Cave was formed naturally through karst topography, or limestone erosion. The caves have been forming since 10,000,000 BCE, when rainwater first began to dissolve the limestone and form the first passages of the cave system. The caves were first explored and mined by Native Americans 5,000 years ago. There are multiple wildlife species that live in the caves, including crayfish, bats and, my personal favorite, the eyeless cave fish. These fish have evolved to the lack of light in the caves by ceasing the growth of their eyes. White in color and only a couple inches in length, these fish can go months without eating and live thirty to forty years! Considering the lifespan of this fish, the amount of time it can go without eating, and its lack of sight, I still find myself thinking about them and wondering how they spend their time.
When the time for our tour arrived, we gathered with our group at a pavilion outside, where we were given our safety instructions and a lantern with a flame dancing inside. We walked down a steep, paved slope together to the mouth of the cave.
The air cooled around us. I pulled on my jacket and held the lantern a little closer. The light faded away, leaving only the artificial lights that had been placed around the cave and the lanterns we held in our hands. We passed by other groups gathered in the cave, who watched with interest as we passed. I had signed us up for the Violet City Lantern Tour, the only tour in the cave that is done entirely in lantern light, just as early explorers would have seen the caves.
As we delved deeper into the cave system, all other lights faded away. We walked with our lanterns held at our sides, our eyes flitting around the dark cave walls as they adjusted to the dim light. We could see very little than the few feet around us, lit by the warm glow. The wide trails narrowed into winding dirt paths, the same historic trails early explorers followed. While we walked, our tour guide told us more about the history of the caves. We passed small, stone huts, and our guide told us about the tuberculosis patients who were “treated” here because it was believed there was something special about the clean and cool cave air. We learned about the dangers early explorers faced and the Kentucky Cave Wars, when developers and promoters of the cave fought over tourists to show them their section of the cave system. We peered at ancient drawings and gaped down at steep drops beside our feet that seemed to end in nothingness.
The tour lasted a total of three hours, but the time passed quicker than expected. I was shocked by the sticky warmth that greeted us when we emerged from the caves at the edge of a road surrounded by thick, green foliage. A tired bus chugged up the hill to meet us.
We rode back to the visitors center and then hopped back into our car to drive to the edge of Kentucky and Indiana, where our first and only Airbnb of the trip was located. I am always surprised at how luxurious showers feel after days of going without one. Despite the heat outside, I could not help myself from turning the water to scalding and relaxing in its spray.
We dressed in clean clothes and drove to Louisville, KY, where we strode across the Big Four Pedestrian Bridge back into Jeffersonville, IN. As we walked, we watched the orange sun dip behind the clouds as we listened to classical music playing from speakers overhead.
In Jeffersonville, we decided to dine at Harry’s Tap House, where we could sit outside and watch the bridge light up as the sky darkened. We were served by a young, blonde woman with a thick Kentucky accent. To drink, I ordered a summertime sangria made with peach schnapps and sweet peach puree. For an appetizer, we chose the pretzel and beer cheese – the fried Klaus pretzel, made by a renowned local baker in Louisville, was served hot with a creamy house-made beer cheese dip. I am sorry to say this, because I have visited Pennsylvania on numerous occasions and always ordered a famous Philly pretzel, but I think it was the best pretzel I have ever eaten. Crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, with the perfect, mouth-watering amount of salt, it melted against my tongue and felt warm in my chest. I wished I had ordered three more and just had that for my meal.
For dinner, I ordered the mango bourbon salmon, a chilean salmon served with refreshing mango salsa. It was served with a sweet Thai broccoli smothered in sauce, and in place of the rice, I ordered a side of Brussels sprouts that were also drenched in an Asian sauce. Joseph ordered the smokehouse burger, which was a half pound burger served with crispy bacon, smoked cheddar cheese, beer battered onion rings, and tangy barbecue sauce.
Stomachs bursting, we walked back to the Big Four Pedestrian Bridge, which was now lit up against the night sky. I savored the walk across, taking in the view of the skyline beneath the white moon and the blue lights of the bridge that glittered against the black water below.
It was amazing to go in one day from marveling at the walls of a cave to gazing at the tall buildings of a city – a wonder created by nature, and another created by man. Our travels have not yet taken us outside of the United States, and I find myself often wishing to see something truly old. Most of what we have seen in our travels has been created within the last couple hundred years, whereas, in countries like Europe, you could marvel at a building that is centuries old. Today, however, I was reminded that, even if our buildings had not been erected that long ago, we still have structures here that are just as ancient – mountains, rivers, trees and caves. And that made me wonder just how many parts of nature I see regularly, even around my own home, and take for granted. I wonder how long the trees in my backyard have stood there, how long the rivers gushing around my home have existed, how many others have walked this land before me, and how different it must have looked then.
There is something amazing to be seen anywhere, if only we take the time to look. And sometimes, we may be surprised to discover the wonders we are looking for are actually hidden beneath our feet.
What about your life excites you? What makes you get up out of bed in the morning and stay motivated during your day? For some of us, it’s simple, like our morning cup of coffee, followed by an afternoon cup later on. For others, we are inspired by our work or our families.
I realized on my very first trip with Joseph that exhaustion does not quite hit the same way on the road as it does at home. Excited for every day and the new experiences it would bring, I could survive on limited sleep and caffeine for days. Back at home, I require a full eight hours and some activity requiring me to pull myself out of bed early, or I will sleep even longer.
Today, after two very full days and nights with little sleep, that exhaustion was beginning to rise, but we still rose with the sun, packed up our car, and drove to our first stop as if we were much better rested than we were. We started our day at Cataract Falls, a recreation area with the largest waterfall in Indiana. Technically, it’s two waterfalls that create one big waterfall – the upper falls has a fall of twenty feet, while the lower falls (half a mile downstream) has a plunge of eighteen feet. We started at the upper falls, where we held ourselves up on the railing to avoid stepping onto the flooded wooden platform. The sound of the rushing water was deafening. The falls glided over the rocks and plunged into the water below. Lush greenery surrounded the water and sparkled with water droplets.
We walked through the woods to the next set of falls, which flowed down into a river where children were splashing in the water. Despite having traveled and fallen so far, the water was surprisingly calm, and that peace seemed to emanate into us as we gazed at the gorgeous cascades.
Upper Cataract Falls
Our next stop was Indianapolis, another surprisingly clean city. Our plan had been to go to the City Market, which was similar to yesterday’s West Side Market, though it seemed there were many more ready-to-eat food options available. However, we arrived a little too early and found most of the shops were not open yet. Stomachs grumbling, we decided to hunt for food elsewhere. After a quick search, we settled on a local brunch chain called Wild Eggs, which was only a half-mile walk away.
From the eclectic and bright, egg-themed decor to the variety of tasty menu options made with fresh and local ingredients, it was clear why this spot was so highly rated. Joseph and I sat at a booth and pointed and laughed to the many different paintings featuring eggs on top of mushrooms, arranged to look like flowers, inside avocados, and more.
For our meal, we ordered one of their special appetizers, breakfast popcorn, which was thick cut bacon drenched in syrup and served with a spicy dipping sauce. As someone who does not eat a lot of meat, it was not my favorite dish, but Joseph would have eaten the entire plate if I had not reminded him he still had his meal coming. Joseph ordered chicken and waffles, which were perfectly crispy and fluffy and tasted the perfect blend of sweet and salty with some syrup drizzled on top. I ordered the farmers market skillet, a blend of bell peppers, zucchini, yellow squash, wild mushrooms, broccoli, oven-roasted tomatoes, and home-fried potatoes, topped with melted cheddar cheese with two basted eggs like little suns sitting in clouds, all served in a white skillet serving dish. On the side, I received a homemade blueberry muffin that was so delicious, I couldn’t help but eat despite my stomach being close to bursting. To drink, Joseph ordered the chocolate kiss, a hot coffee spiked with coffee liqueur, Irish cream and creme de cocoa, topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. There were a variety of mimosas also available – I chose the orange pineapple mimosa, which was a bright sweet and citrusy treat.
Stomachs groaning from the amount of food, we decided to walk around for a little while. We stopped for coffee at Starbucks, where we also purchased our first Been There series mug of the trip, and then perused the shops. We took note of the colorful streets adorned with flags of all colors of the rainbow, which I was surprised to see considering the conservative lean of the state. However, I learned later that Indianapolis is a dark blue section of the state surrounded by much more red. Therefore, pride flags were everywhere to see, and they were, well, proud of it. One of our favorite shops was Silver in the City, an unconventional gift store that sells jewelry, clothing, bags, books, and more. I am not sure if the store was just in Pride theme for June, or if it always has a similar collection, but Joseph and I both dragged each other around the store, smiling and laughing at the creative, funny and affirming items for sale.
Our stomachs now a bit more comfortable, we drove to Bluespring Caverns. The park does not take reservations for their boat tours, so we needed to arrive early enough that we would not miss our opportunity, and hopefully at a time where we would not be waiting too long for the next available tour. We pulled in just as the next tour was about to leave. We hurried inside, paid for our tour, and joined the group descending down the slippery sidewalk into the caverns below.
Even while we could still see sunlight, the air grew cold around us. I slipped into my jacket and stepped carefully down the steep decline to where boats were tied to a pier built beneath the ground. We sat on the benches in the boat, and our tour guide sat at the back to guide us through the caverns in the longest navigable underground river in the United States.
The caverns grew dim and quiet. The motor of the boat was so soft, we could still hear the occasional drip of water or scuttle of a cave fish below. The walls were slick and glinted in the boat’s light, although we were told not to touch them. The oils on our hands would immediately cease the growth of these formations. We floated through, gazing in wonder at the limestone formations. We learned on our tour that Indiana is known for its minerals, particularly limestone, which has been used in the capital in DC and the Taj Mahal in India. For this reason, anyone who owns land above ground also owns anything underneath their property.
As we reached a larger room where our boat could rest, our tour guide gave us the unique opportunity to experience the complete removal of our senses. First, we were given the opportunity to experience total silence – everyone was instructed to be quiet. Immediately, the caverns fell silent around us. There was not a single sound – not a drop of water, not an animal scuttling along the walls, not even my own heartbeat. For the first time in my life, I truly understood the phrase, “silence is deafening.” Faced with such a complete lack of noise, my ears strained hard to hear anything, and they seemed to create almost a faint ringing in my head, reminiscent of the way it sounds after a loud concert.
After this, we were plunged in total darkness. Our tour guide instructed us to put away all phones and cameras and turned off the lights of the boat. Darkness more complete than I had ever experienced encased us. It felt thick and suffocating. I could not even see my own hand in front of my face. I had thought before, on dark nights, I knew what darkness was, but this, underneath the ground and away from all forms of natural and artificial light, was like something out of a nightmare.
With the lights back on, our tour guide gave us one last experience of cave thunder. She took a seat cushion in her hands and, after instructing us all to remain silent, banged it against the benches. The resounding echoes through the caverns ricocheted off the walls, creating a sound reminiscent of thunder slowly rolling across the landscape. I smiled at the sound, remembering humid summer nights with lightning streaking across the sky and rain throwing itself against my windows as I sat curled with a book, watching the storm.
Joseph and I left the tour, both marveling at the unique experience – it had truly been unlike anything we had ever done before. Our travels often take us to places high in the sky, but never had we traveled so far below the ground.
Our next stop was Santa Claus, IN. Despite the time change working in our favor, we still arrived at the town much later than we had hoped. After checking the clock, we realized most of the town’s attractions were closing in just five minutes.
Joseph, who knows just how much I love Christmas and was looking forward to visiting, did not want us to miss our opportunity. He pulled the car onto the road fast and sped to the Santa Claus Museum, just two minutes before it closed. We found the door to the museum already locked, but lights were still on inside. I gave a tentative knock, hating myself for doing so – I remembered all too well my days in customer service, and the feeling of closing up shop when no customers were in the store, only to have someone arrive a few minutes before I was able to leave.
The door opened, and we found two women inside.
“We know you’re about to close, but can we just have a quick look around?” Joseph asked. The woman behind the desk smiled at us and gestured for us to come in.
“I’ve got this,” she said to the woman at the door. “You can go home.” She turned on the lights for us and asked if we had ever been here before. When we said we hadn’t, she explained the layout of the museum to us – where we could learn more about the history of the town, read letters written to Santa Claus all the way back to the early 1900s, the gift shop, the model train room, and Santa’s office. She seemed disappointed we would not have the entire experience, and after a while, she ended up turning on Christmas lights and music for us to enjoy while we perused.
“Take your time,” she repeated to us multiple times. “Enjoy it.” As I gleefully skipped to another room with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning, I heard Joseph tell the woman just how much I love the holiday and how special this was.
We read about the history of the town – originally called Santa Fee, the town applied for a post office in the 1850s. Its application was rejected because there was another town called Santa Fe in Indiana. According to legend, it was Christmas Eve, and the town was gathered to discuss new possible names. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew open the doors to the church, and sound of sleigh bells drifted inside. The children ran to the door shouting, “Santa Claus!” And thus, the name of the town was decided.
For over a hundred years, letters have poured into Santa Claus, IN from children with their Christmas wishes. Every December, letters have been written back, by the volunteer “elves” or even the ultimate postmaster, Santa Claus himself.
We read through the letters, which brought us both to laughter and tears at the childhood love and innocence captured inside. It was neat to compare the wishes of children in the early 20th century to now, and surprisingly, they did not seem all that different. We watched the train circle the track and turned the globe on Santa’s desk. When we were finished, the woman handed us a set of keys and gave us the opportunity to go into the historic church and post office, where we would have the opportunity to write a letters of our own.
The church was as it was years ago, with a partition as soon as you walked in to separate men and women. At the front, an almost life-size nativity sat. I sat down in a wooden pew and was reminded vividly of a field trip when I was in elementary school to a one-room schoolhouse. This place was just as old and filled with memories.
We met our guide at the post office, where we were given papers and pencils to write our letters. We sat in desks designed for much smaller people and, after a moment of thinking, began to write.
The post office in Santa Claus, IN where we got to write our letters
We thanked our host profusely before we left – she had given us almost an hour of her time, when she should have been home by now. She informed us this was her job after retirement, and she does it simply because she loves it so much. It had been a truly heartwarming experience for us, and multiple times I was brought to tears by just how grateful I was that we had not missed it.
We stopped by the store for some more wine and charcuterie (we had not had our fill the night before), and drove to our campsite. There, we started a fire and sat beside a lake as we ate and watched the sky slowly dim from blue to pink to indigo.
Christmas means quite a lot to me. There was a period in my life when every day, the first thing I did when I woke up was check how many days there were left until the holiday. Until this day, I still start planning my gifts in July. Joseph and I do activities all December long to celebrate advent, and we most likely will be celebrating Christmas in July as well. The thing that got me up in the morning, for many years, was just that one special day.
It seems silly, but for me, Christmas was something to look forward to when there was not much else in my life to be excited about. I had a very long hospital stay in the month of December when I was in high school, and I got out just in time for Christmas. Still frail and very dejected, I remember, in the middle of Christmas baking at home alone, climbing onto the counter to be closer to the radio so I could listen to Christmas song playing as tears streamed down my face. It felt like Christmas had almost been stolen from me, and I vowed to never let that happen again. As my health worsened, I looked forward all year to the holiday season, which was so filled with love and joy that it spilled light into what was the darkest time in my life.
I am grateful now to have so much more worth waking up for. I do not remember when I stopped checking the Christmas countdown daily – it probably faded to every couple days, to once a month, to now the occasional check every couple months and the stir of excitement I still feel when I see the numbers tick down. And as my need for Christmas cheer year-round faded, I filled that space with joy from other areas of my life – strong friendships, sharing my writing, my career, my ever-improving health, my adoring husband, traveling the country, my sweet puppy.
Christmas may seem to be an odd thing to motivate someone, but for me, it quite literally saved my life in a lot of ways. And when I think about it, it does not seem to me to be such an awful thing to rely on. It is dependable – it comes every year, whether we want it to or not. It is filled with family gatherings, normally whether we want that or not, too. And no matter what, it has a crisp air filled with hope, a joy that warms even the frostiest hearts, and a love that surpasses understanding. For me, as I have found hope elsewhere in my life, I have tried to carry those values with me, so maybe I can bring a little of that spirit anywhere I go. After all, I think we all could use a little more joy, love and hope.
No matter what it is that excites you to wake up in the morning, the glimmers you find throughout your day, the hope that keeps you alive, embrace it. Others may find it strange to find an adult running through Santa Claus, IN with more excitement than any child visiting, or, as I have encountered more often in my life, people unfortunately often chastise others for talking too much about their passions, for being “obsessed” with the things they love. There is nothing wrong with enjoying this life, with noticing the little things others take for granted, for being excited about something that brings you joy. Embrace your glimmers and hold them tight to your heart.
And if you want to share them with someone, I’m always here with a cup of coffee and an eager ear. More than anything else, my biggest glimmer has become listening to others speak about what they are passionate about, even if it holds no interest to me. I love seeing that light brighten in someone’s eyes, to listen to their voice pick up speed and pitch and watch as their hands start move enthusiastically as they speak. I love just being human with someone. It gives me hope to listen to other people’s stories and to encourage their passions.
