“I pray for your journey as it unfolds into the unknown. I know you feel a bit out of sorts. We all do sometimes. It’s okay. Don’t be afraid. You are loved. Remember it, know it, live it, breath it, rest in it. “ Sarah Bessey

It’s been an ‘out of sorts‘ couple of weeks. I felt the longing for the familiar and home sneak up after a losing a post I had worked on for three days, being lost on public transportation, and even more lost while trying to communicate in Spanish. It’s inconsequential to try and figure out if I was ill humored and then was lost, or lost and then ill humored. Regardless, patience was not my virtue the last few weeks and discombobulation reigned.

My friend’s daughter moved to Japan last month for work, in the middle of a virus, with four young children. They were quarantined in a small hotel room for three weeks. Her husband, a therapist, said “well we wanted an adventure and here it is. The good and the bad are all part of the adventure.”

I forget when I’m in the middle of the bad parts of an adventure, that being lost emotionally and physically is part of the equation. Math is not my thing but I somehow remember that a ‘negative times a negative equals a positive.’ With that logic then negative experiences multiplied by other negative experiences can still produce positive outcomes. Losing three days work, taking the wrong public transportation and walking back two miles in sweltering heat to find the correct tram line, and not understanding what the grocery store clerk was asking me as she exasperatedly repeated herself three times, still means positive outcomes are possible.

Steve, much better at change, hasn’t floundered on this international move. He spoke Spanish out of the gate and has better “Spidey Senses” directionally. His theme this move has been a line from an old 70s Meatloaf ballad “Two out of Three ain’t Bad.” He finds a way to compromise and focus on a couple wins. When the landlord didn’t complete requested repairs (painting, replacing bulbs, low flow faucets, and pest extermination) Steve did the repairs on his own. Despite the ad and our contract saying the kitchen was fully stocked, there were no dishes, pots, pans, nor any linens when we got to the apartment, so it was back to the Airbnb for another night. Steve said at least we have the apartment keys now, and it worked out that our Airbnb host could let us stay one more night. After sleeping in the apartment the first night, and waking up bleary eyed after listening to a party through the walls until 2 am and scratching at the ant bites on our feet due to the apartment being overrun with ants, Steve said at least we have a bigger queen bed to sleep in instead of the minuscule double at the Airbnb, and I have a tube of cortisone for the bites.

Finding a ropa de tendedero, a metal folding clothesline to dry clothes, a hardware store to copy keys, boric acid to kill the ants and cockroaches and sundry items like shower curtains, laundry basket, rugs, hot pads, cooking ware, dishes, utensils was not a problem but a challenge for Steve. Saturday at 3 pm we ventured out, and the shops were shut tight. Luckily we found a Chinese Bazaar still open. We bought the essentials: a couple plates, a giant skillet (that could double as a pot to boil things) and trash cans. When we got back to the apartment, despite not having our Spanish credit card yet (due to Santander bank closing for the whole month of August) Steve managed to place an order on Amazon.es (Espana) by uploading a financial document, and he procured a metal clothesline and a few more kitchen items. I managed to cook the whole weekend with a pot, an oven broiling pan and had a trash can to hold the refuse.

Sunday morning was rainy and humid but we ventured out in the stillness while the city slept. We stumbled upon tiny plaza Mocadoret that had a mosaic sign commemorating the miracle of the handkerchief or (mocadoret) in 1413. Saint Vincent Ferrer taught in a plaza nearby. He said the journey of mortality was fraught with darkness and the unknown, and the remedy was service to others. He threw his handkerchief in the air, and he said wherever it landed, it would find someone who needed help. The crowd followed Ferrer, and found the handkerchief at the door of a little family starving to death. The crowd gave what they had to keep this family from starvation. In 2013, 600 years later, the Parish in Valencia also donated non perishable goods to a charity nearby to feed the less fortunate and to remember the miracle.

Our journey into the unknown of Spain does feel scary at times–even when we wanted and planned a year out for this move. Negative experiences are not the destination. We can donate our time and means and be apart of miracles for others. Reflecting on the kindness that happened in this plaza, and pondering the good that can come out of bad…. I felt steady and righted again. “Don’t be afraid. You are loved. Remember it, know it, live it, breath it, rest in it.” I let go of the negatives… there are so many more multiplying positives to enjoy on the horizon.

Due to an uptick in corona virus cases in Catalonia, the bombardment of troublesome headlines started just two weeks after our arrival in Spain: 

Spain Dropped from the “Safe List” Mandatory quarantine for those Returning from Spain Greater berth needed– Stay Away from People

With the resurgence, and inoculations still inaccessible, rousing new hope and appreciating “now” didn’t make headlines. I went back to an article from last March and reread a quote from Anne McClain, NASA astronaut, who explained how she dealt with social isolation and duress while in space. McClain said: “Expect to do things differently. Expect to need to adapt. Expect to be out of your comfort zone. Expect to put others first.“

I jumped to a story about an elderly man, who had survived illnesses, wars and the Corona virus, who said: “I learned a long time ago to not see the world through the printed headlines. I see the world through the people who surround me. I chose to make my own headlines.” 

Months ago, after giving up on 24 hour news feeds as toxic to the soul, and having switched to just gleaning news by scanning headlines as an attempt to feel more settled (albeit thwarted), this resonated with me. I found myself making up my own headlines:  

Women gets inoculated with new mindset Uptick in free library classics downloads Man carries immunity to negativity.

I instantly felt more positive and peaceful making my own headlines. And I made a conscious decision to see the world by focusing on the selfless acts of people around me, seeing the good that exists, and putting others first.

A photo memory popped up on my phone of Pedro de Orrente’s early 17th century painting, Mary Magdalene, Penitent. I saw this beautiful painting in the lovely baroque Museo de Bellas Artes de Valencia seven months previous. I had no recollection of seeing it, even though it was the one painting I took a photo of despite all the art of Goya, El Greco, Murillo and Velázquez. Orrente was living between Murcia and Valencia when he painted this dramatic depiction of Mary in tattered clothing bathed in light. After looking at it, I knew why I 

took a photo of it. Orrente’s painting was done in the Caravaggisti style of dramatic chiaroscuro– the dark background contrasting with an illuminated subject in the foreground. I fell in love with chiaroscuro while living in Rome years ago. Seeing Orrente’s painting again reminded me of seeing Carravaggio’s version of Penitent Magdalene in the Doria Pamphilj gallery. While Caravaggio’s baroque Mary was painted in 1595 and Orrente’s realist Mary in the early 1600’s, both remind me of women who begin to understand something… a thought and a light goes on in their minds. I don’t see the Marys’ upturned or downward looks as contrition as she was wrongfully maligned. I see a woman who has been burdened by the chaos around her and despite darkness gathering, she is reminded of her light, and the good that still remains to be experienced. This is why I am drawn to her.

On our many masked walks around Valencia we are stopped, usually by Spaniards who are visiting Valencia as tourists, and asked directions. I find this amusing as we are new to Valencia. Steve, always patient, helpfully explains in Spanish how they can get to one destination or another, while I nod and offer my two cents. I wonder as they walk away, why they asked us. (This was common when we were in Rome, Brazil or New Zealand, locals stopped and asked us directions). Granted Steve is of Spanish descent and may look like a local. With contemplation, it occurs to me though that like recognizes like. They, still optimistically out enjoying nature and architecture, recognize us as individuals like themselves who are still focused on positive pursuits. Like us they are down to the good that still remains during quarantine as we walk around Valencia. 

Expect the good. Expect to put others first. This is how we survive.