Another Cycle around the Sun
Global reflections on the new year and the new places in which we find ourselves
On my birthday last week, I relished sitting on an azure chair facing the crashing waves of the Mediterranean. The sun reflected off the turquoise water, while at the horizon, crystal blue skies blended with the cold rippling sea.
Another cycle around that sun.
For the past four years, my husband and I have been splitting our year equally between two of our favorite places on earth: Nice, France and Portland, Oregon. We take only one round-trip flight, so we migrate like birds in January to Southern Europe and in July to the Pacific Northwest. This cycle creates its own lovely cadence of culture, creativity, and community in each place. It also takes flexibility and determination to live in and of two cultures.
Businesses and industries move in cycles, too. Budget planning happens each fall and sales reports are done each quarter. January is a low month in travel (great for bargain basement rates!) while back-to-school in August creates demand for new shoes at Nike and Apple’s hottest new releases. Right now, luxury is in a slump—and deservedly so, after steeply raising prices after Covid. Luxury brands have lost about 50 million customers in two years, a result of increased prices and mediocre marketing. But it won’t trend that way forever. Having worked in the industry for years, I know it moves in cycles—even if Bernard Arnault always demands seeing numbers that only go up!
Life is made of cycles in which our reality shifts and changes, slows and soars. Learning to appreciate these cycles, perhaps to even leverage them, ignites disruptive energy. Like the sun shining on the luminous sea, cycles can illuminate new perspectives, ones that enhance the way we move through the world.
For my husband and I, the cycle that sends us to Nice after half a year in Portland is perfect for ringing in the New Year. It offers us an irresistible opportunity to cast off our Portland fleeces in favor of French scarves. When we arrive in France mid-winter, the beaches are empty, save for the seagulls and me. When you live by this sea, many of my favorite things appear on every street corner—fresh oyster pop-up stands with garçons shucking for a quick midday stand-up slurp next to Cafe Vergnano for the followup espresso hit.
And don’t get me started on the wine. Shortly after we arrived, the French friends we made decades ago—back when Nordstrom hired me to transform a local brand into a global one—welcomed us to the requisite five-hour dinner with Champagne and, yes, more oysters. Homemade foie gras was followed by salmon gravlax fait maison, each with its own carefully selected cellar wine. As our host brought out the final vintage, I caught my breath when I noticed the year: the same year my oldest (now married) child was born! As much as I love our Oregon Pinot Noirs, they can’t compete with that!
The thing about cycles is, they come… and they go. There are plenty of things I savor about our yearly cycle, and plenty of things I find frustrating. Here are a few from my life in France:
Healthcare in France is excellent, accessible, and affordable. My US insurance pre-approved an MRI for up to the $5,000 standard price in America. In France, I was surprised to learn that the full cost would be no more than $500: $250 for the procedure and $250 for the physician to analyze the results. This directly translates into more healthcare for more people.
Greetings. People say “Bonjour Madame” and “Merci Monsieur.” It’s a small thing, but the gentle kindness softens a day’s hard edges.
The sea and mountains are nearby and accessible to all. Sunday we rode the public bus to the adorable Auron village in the Maritime Alps and skied—all for less than we’d pay for a dinner out and movie in Portland. Guess what was on the menu: six oysters and a glass of Chablis!
I’ve learned to appreciate the good, because, as with everything, there is always a flip side:
Innovation is slower. With less access to capital and a lower tolerance for failure, businesses take fewer risks. Why invent something new when it’s been done this way for 100 years?
With slower progress, people keep things longer, even cracked, chipped, and splintered. We have complained about a roof leak for two years now, but the apartment building coop has other priorities while we watch the paint peel.
The laissez-faire attitude extends to always thinking someone else will take care of things, rather than taking responsibility yourself. I have to remember to watch every step as many French still allow their adorable Fifis to poop where they please!
Some cycles have global resonance and can be deeply destabilizing. After the last U.S. election cycle, we have found ourselves at the whim of cruel, powerful autocrats yet again. No wonder people are compelled to find refuge in other countries. I’ve met many newly arrived Americans here in Europe who have chosen to leave; like my father who escaped the Holocaust on this very same continent, many fear for their safety and freedom under the new regime.
The world moves together—something I’ve learned over the years. The challenge is to identify the present source of power, harness energy with others who share your values to help fight and guide the system, until the momentum shifts once again.
Here in Nice, I take pleasure in the small things, even when the big things feel heavy and hard. Today, I was approached by reporters on the Promenade des Anglais, our seaside boardwalk, to comment on another event cycling back onto our calendars: Valentine’s Day.
What’s the best place in Nice for a romantic dinner? Carefully, I suggested Apopino, a great new restaurant on Rue Grimaldi, while cleverly keeping my favorite one under wraps.
And what was the worst Valentine’s Day gift ever? A vacuum cleaner.
While both women burst into laughter, I knew the double-edged truth: Yes, I missed out on a romantic gift, but I gained a bigger one. He really bought the vacuum for himself, and I appreciate his love for cleaning!
As each new cycle rolls onto the shore, I try to settle into its rhythm. It’s one thing to let ourselves be tossed by the waves: it’s another to let them come, watch them go, and see what gifts of energy and perspective flow in on the tide. In the moment, your circumstances may seem stuck—in business, relationships, life. But nothing is definitive and there are always other perspectives. Sometimes you’ll be caught in the crashing waves; sometimes you’ll be above it on the boardwalk in that azure chair, reflecting on a calm and satisfying sea. That’s both the gift and the challenge as we navigate the cycles that define our lives. I’ve learned to take a deep breath to focus on what is good, what I can change, and know that the bad will get swept out to sea again soon.
Care to share any cycles in your life? And where you find yourself now?
I’m seeing a huge growth in Substack since the election and discovering how to enjoy community in the comments. In addition to sharing your views on cycles today, please let me know what you like, what you don’t, and what you want to hear more about. Thank you for reading.
A beautiful perspective on life in France. :)
Having lived in the South of France many years ago I love the visual representation in your words and see every detail clearly. I am happy for your life. I am inspired to do the same someday again. I look forward to reading more.