My Joy List
February 25th-March 19th: back in Amsterdam, spring/snow/food in Colorado, and the best way to enjoy a bagel in NYC
You’re reading a newsletter from Syd, an NYC-born gal who quit her “golden handcuffs” job and moved to Amsterdam to follow her heart’s calls for a path less traveled. Here, I share the challenges and wins of my own journey from people pleasing & perfectionism to authenticity, balance, joy, & freedom. Beyond this page, I study positive psychology at the University of Pennsylvania, I coach fellow U.S. + Europe-based high performers, and I share stories in a podcast, The Path Less Traveled. You may find comfort, empowerment, inspiration, and community. Welcome 🫶🏻
Good morning sunshines!
I just got back to Amsterdam this morning for the first time since December. It’s safe to say that spring is springing and I can’t quite tell whether my soul is being cracked open or if it’s reuniting with a part of itself that calls Amsterdam home.
The air smells fresh, like things are blooming everywhere, and people are walking and running and biking, with their doggies chasing balls, frisbees, and each other. I hear birds chirping and the sweet sound of Dutch conversations sprinkled with “leuk” and “zeker.” I marvel at the little buds peaking their nose out to smell this fresh air, on the same branches I marveled at last March.
How do we define a home? Is it where we spend most of our time, the place where we were born, the place with the faces we love the most, or is it the place where we feel like the filter between ourselves and the world melts, like our skin becomes more porous, more translucent?
Just yesterday, walking in Central Park, I thought to myself: this is home and I am so content. I can see myself here for years to come. But in Amsterdam, it’s beyond contentment. It’s that filter-melting feeling. Perhaps home feels both ways.
For a while, I thought I could recreate this special something of Amsterdam in New York. I wanted to recreate it. That’s what I promised myself when we partially moved back to New York in the fall. But I don’t think it’s possible now. Places are special because we cannot recreate them just anywhere else. And I think I’m okay with that now. I can love New York and I can love Amsterdam and I can miss what I love when I am not with it without resenting the place I am in, without wanting to be elsewhere.
I feel so grateful to love both so darn much. And to have access to nature in both.
Other thoughts/ideas I’m mulling:
I’m embarrassed to say I intentionally listened to Gracie Abrams for the first time last week. I realized upon listening that I know a number of her songs, but my goodness is this the first time I realized I really like her. Her voice, her energy. It’s beautiful. I should’ve listened to my aunt sooner when she told me she got one of Gracie’s albums on vinyl months ago.
“Be brave and bold and as full of as much radical joy as we can muster because it is as much of an antidote on our sad and lonely days as it is an act of resistance.”—Gracie Abrams in “Packing It Up” at her Red Rocks show streamed on Apple Music
And now… on to the rest of the joys!
Joy spotting: the practice of noticing little moments of joy surrounding us all the time (more)
Unpictured:
the coolness of the rocks in the ramble juxtaposed against the warmth of the sun and air
sending and listening to long overdue voice notes with people I love dearly
a long call with Amanda
spontaneous dinners with the girls
committing to a honeymoon plan
putting on a mushroom finger puppet show with Lucy
Big, big squeeze from me to you. May you allow for space to breathe and notice that which is budding within and around you. May you allow for space to notice the good and the love.
Love,
Syd
This got me --
How do we define a home? Is it where we spend most of our time, the place where we were born, the place with the faces we love the most, or is it the place where we feel like the filter between ourselves and the world melts, like our skin becomes more porous, more translucent?
Just yesterday, walking in Central Park, I thought to myself: this is home and I am so content. I can see myself here for years to come. But in Amsterdam, it’s beyond contentment. It’s that filter-melting feeling. Perhaps home feels both ways.
Thanks for this post. <3