Category: Happiness & Health

The merits of happiness and staying healthy.

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Suggested Song: Hello, Goodbye, the Beatles
Suggested Drink: Memory Lane cocktail: rye whisky, shrub, bitters, lemon juice

Goodbyes can be hard and I’ve had an avalanche of them this year. Friends, kids, and lovers moving on, cherished apartments given up, and even my daily out-door market moved from the bottom of the street to across town. Now that really hurt. Adios.

This kind of churn wreaks havoc on the daily agenda. Whom I see when, where, and what it is we do together has been upended, and being a creature of habit I am off my game. The creative well is dusty, productivity down, and motivation flagging. My summer rosé pace remains robust and thank god for that. At least I can point to something that’s trending up.

It all started near year-end with that darn Sottak family. After holding court as provocateurs and organizers of all things social and immensely fun amongst our circle for the past 7 years, they decided to call it a French day and skedaddle back to the US. They were the glue and warm glow that pulled us all together for spontaneous apéros and long family dinners, group holidays to hither and tither, fun and frolic and generally irresponsible licentiousness. That they could not be replaced made their move even more unforgiveable.

Then over the Noel holidays my landlord sent a cryptic email that a dinner in January was welcome, … and needed. He needed to sell the apartment that was my welcome matt to Aix-en-Provence in 2010, a small but noble 17th century flat in the heart of this sun-touched, provincial city. So many memories between those walls: my 3 kids and their friends joyfully spread out amongst the cots and daybed and pullout; the communal meals and singing and supporting and debating and always one more bottle; mon amoure at my breakfast table, her perfume lingering for hours after departure. Another difficult goodbye.

More recently good friends of mine in Aix have decided to get divorced. They are managing it with all the love and respect that a beautiful 13-year marriage deserves, but it leaves me sad and deflated. My reaction is purely selfish of course, as they both seem fine and taking on the change with a positive, forward-facing attitude. I see a farewell to the many delicious memories we’ve shared these past 7 years, two of my closest friends imagined as forever a unit and couple.

I will continue to see them separately of course, but between their news and my own recent breakup, and my daughter packing up last week after a final long summer with Dad (growing up and college bound next year), and the Sottak departure, and the apartment move, … 2017 is becoming one long goodbye to an intimately warm and beautiful era.

Coping

Goodbye and Hello are funny words. One starts with a positive syllable but is often a distressing experience, while the other begins with a foreboding term but is typically hopeful and uplifting. Weird. Hello to new people in our lives, hello to new places.

The best we can do with empty space is to enjoy its serenity. Our daily lives are filled with turbulence, and a momentary calm can be soothing and restorative. An empty home is a clean slate, and an empty heart, once healed, open for new and beautiful souls to discover.

I’m keeping my hellos to a minimum through this transition, leaning toward the zen hermit mode and a few faithful friends. Stay busy and switch up the hours regularly. Avoid the routines that tug out warm memories. Run at dawn, write into the night, then write at dawn and run late. Travel on impulse, an evening in Italy or weekend in Paris. Keep the overnight bag at the ready. Staying off balance seems to offset the imbalance of these various goodbyes. I can’t explain why, but it’s working.

I’m hoping that all of your goodbyes are as warm and tender as mine. That doesn’t lessen the sting, but eases the recovery.

Enjoy the rest of the summer. It will be saying goodbye all too soon.

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence

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Suggested Drink: Chateau Simone. Any year, any color will bring a smile.
Suggested Song: Deeper, Ella Eyre

Are you feeling exasperated and powerless during this current baffling political season? Events in Britain, America, and soon France leave us questioning core beliefs about our communities and the greater world at large. It’s a weird time full of strange characters and unpredictable outcomes. Unsettling.

hillary-donaldMany of us have been passing through the classic 5 stages of grief since early November: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Okay, perhaps we’ve managed to navigate just 4 stages but it’s still early. I’ve been trying out different coping mechanisms and arrived recently at the following simple approach: less looking out, more looking in, drink better wine. I’m letting go of what I can’t control and focusing on what I can control, and then there’s the wine thing. Let’s take a closer look.

Less looking out

Embracing the wider world requires an effort in reading, watching, listening, discussing and debating. Despite my best efforts to be enlightened I have come to accept these realities in the new era:

  • I no longer understand the greater electorate and its true tendencies.
  • I have zero control over who gets elected.
  • I have no control over the policies and actions of the newly elected.
  • The press has no idea about what they write in this political season.
  • The pollsters have no clue about what they survey at the moment.

I am not planning a crawl to the cave just yet but have stopped considering the public discourse online or in print as somehow rational and informed. I can’t help myself from engaging in debate and the dinner table discussions with my local Provence cabal remain spirited. But I accept that all our righteous pontifications over delicious meals and endless bottles leads us no closer to understanding the new reality.

It feels like a good moment to unplug.

More looking in

We can’t dress the greater world in our own wishful designs – or even understand the fashion season at the moment – but we still dress ourselves, thank goodness. Physical, emotional, and educational growth still remains 100% under own purview and control.

This is a fantastic opportunity to get good with our personal development. Get the body healthy and balanced, the soul nourished and full of zest, and the mind exploring new and esoteric endeavours.

Where to start:

  • Physical: Listen, we’re all going to be adopting a new fitness regime come January 1 (as goes the custom of grand resolutions) so why not get a one-month head start. Run, swim, bike, gym, yoga, tai chi, paddle board, … you decide. These are all good for the body and 100% under your control. Start today.
  • Emotional: I believe in the merits of meditation and consider it essential to our emotional balance and durability. And meditation can come in whatever form that works best for you; whatever provides the easiest release from the daily grind and stress, like the current political season. The classic lotus position stuff or a good walk along a peaceful lake, painting, dancing, music, anything that stops the gears in your loopy grey matter from spinning on everything except the moment. This is essential healthcare for the soul and 100% under your control. Do it now.

Another topic of emotional wellbeing is happiness. You want more of it in your life. There are plenty of ways to create and strengthen your positive emotions. Way too much to discuss here but join my Interprize Group (click here to go to my website and join) you’ll find endless readings, resources, exercises and more, … and you can always call me. Start today.

  • Mental: What a perfect moment to educate yourself in a deep topic – historical, scientific, philosophical, …whatever – outside the myopic minutia of the daily media. If you missed today’s news you wouldn’t know Trump’s latest cabinet pick (who will be fired shortly) or Taylor Swift’s plans for a TV channel. However, you could take, just as an example, that time to start a journey into the 20th century’s most influential philosophers (I’m reading Sartre and Michel Onfre at the moment, both of whom leave me fascinated, but more winded than a morning run with Jill Finkel). You could alternatively seek out books on China’s Zhou dynasty, or take a deep dive into the dynamics and dissimilarities of human societal advancement by reading Jared Diamond (“Guns, Germs, & Steel” is a good start, but anything he writes is golden). Any of these undertaking and an infinite list of others will create a richer and more interesting you. This is essential gymnastics for the brain and 100% under your control. Do it now.

simoneDrinking better wine

Only this will I say about that: life may be shorter than anticipated given the ongoing turn of political events. It’s a good time to clean out the wine cabinet and toast your good fortune. If it all blows up tomorrow you’ll be toasting me, and if we’re lucky enough to be still breathing in 20 years, you’ll still thank me for enjoying those special wines with very special people. That is 100% under your control, so enjoy them now.

My french girlfriend jokes that our occasional disagreements can be explained through our choices of favorite authors. She reads Proust and de Beauvoir and I read Hemingway and McMurtry. She prefers dandy and ambiguous. I prefer cowboy and direct. Maybe she’s right, not sure, but this much is indeed true: I prefer a debate on any given evening over literature, philosophy, recipes, and a great bottle of of wine than a sterile discussion about a boring rich guy who’s never had a drink and wouldn’t know Chomsky from Camus.

And now I step off my soapbox.

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Suggested Song: My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue), Neil Young
Suggested Drink: Jackhammer cocktail: Jack Daniels whiskey, Amaretto

“Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.”
– Pablo Picasso

I want to destroy your life. No, actually I want you to destroy your life. I want you to quite your job, leave your spouse, and plan your move, today.

Stick with me for one reckless moment.

We tend to frame major life changes – professional, personal, geographic, and other – from the inertia of our current situation. Like planets in a universe, each of these big things has a distinct and defining rotation, but orbit around a common core called our life. If any one of these big things gets out of orbit our whole universe can wobble out of control. So we focus on keeping things in safe (even if less than stimulating) trajectories. Knocking them out can initiate a chain of unpredictable consequences after all. Reckless.

planets_orbitsConsidering this astro-emotional dynamic, we ponder change through an inventory of impacts to our safe and predictable cosmos. If I left this job/spouse/location how much upheaval would it create in my entire universe of orbiting things? It’s a focus on the negatives and how to manage them. It’s a calculation that most often encourages inaction.

Let’s flip this conversation on its head. Imagine that for some reason – because Bill says so – you are required to leave your job, spouse, or location. Can you defend why you want to stay, why you are ready to defy that expectation? Tell me now, because as I said above, I want to destroy your life. Now the conversation leans toward positives. What do you so love about your job, spouse, location, and other big things? Remind yourself why the compromises are worth it, make a quick list. Is there enough good stuff there to fight for?

Now here’s the reckless part: stop treating this like a silly exercise. Do it, act on it. How’s the list coming along?

“It takes a long time to become young.”
– Pablo Picasso

Picasso was a big fan of child-like liberation, of creating art without the constraints of convention and expectations. Life imitates art with respect to our compliance to an ever-expanding collection of rules and etiquettes as we age. We grow up. We get properly tamed.

Did you ever “run away” when really young? I remember rolling some provisions into a cloth sac tied to the end of a wooden pole, tossing it over my shoulder like Huck Finn and heading out. I was probably 7 or so, and with no hand to hold that small Pennsylvania town felt like a wide-open universe. I didn’t consider my parents’ reaction, didn’t think about how I would buy stuff, wasn’t worried about my safety. I was limitless and unbounded. Untamed.

RunawayThe older we get the more we consider the consequences of our actions. A high priority is paid to risk aversion and fitting in, of not making waves. We gain a sense of responsibility at the surrender of possibilities and our autonomy. It’s also the start of the blame game: jobs, partners, and locations. My job is killing me. My marriage is boring me. This town is stifling me.

I wager that the single deepest source of frustration in our lives is the loss of self-determination; believing that our personal options and identities have become compromised. We sign contracts, make vows, and take on debts (financial and emotional) that we come to regret. But all of these obligations can be cancelled with a little steel in the backbone. Isn’t being honest and authentic more important than some hell-or-high-water cling to desires and ambitions long since faded? Kids are the only obligation that demands honor: you created them, now raise them. But, even kids don’t expect you to honor that until-death-do-we-part stuff if you’re unhappy and being a fraud. Ask them, I did.

We tiptoe around life like cowards. Most all of us. We limp through our second half and ask, why did I spend my best years with someone whom I no longer loved? Why didn’t I leave that crushing, pointless job when I still had the energy and time to pursue something of real interest? Why did I waste my life in city X instead of trying my dream on island Y?

I’ll tell you exactly why: money, security, feelings, and judgment.

Money

A lot of us drive career aspirations off income potential. I know I did. I was a failing physics major who loved the wine industry, and UC Davis had one of the best departments in the world. There was no money in that though, so rather than changing my major to wine and oenology I moved over to economics and had a decent career in finance and business. I was a square peg in a round hole but a couple of the jobs paid well. No regrets.

money worriesMaybe I’d make the same choice again at 25 and would be dishonest to suggest otherwise. I wasn’t living a passionate life, but managed to woo a great wife, buy a comfortable home, raise 3 terrible kids, and establish some savings. At 25 these are strong considerations for most of us, and that’s understandable. Be a good boy now, just a small dose of lithium and off you go to work.

At 50 I become uncooperative. Step 1 was to stop making life choices based on income. You should too. Our fixation on money is the single biggest source of bad decisions we’ll regret at the tail end of life; choices that pad our bank accounts and provide security to the detriment of true happiness and sense of authenticity. It’s a corruptive influence that pushes us to take on certain work, stay with certain people, and live in certain places that leave us feeling drained and compromised.

Doubt me? Just google “top regrets when dying” and compare the many, many various articles. The biggest common laments:

  • not being authentic to oneself (at the top of every list)
  • not pursuing one’s passions and purpose
  • not taking more risks
  • not finding real love and the right partner

Interesting that no one wishes they had worked longer hours and made more money, yet we make most of our big life decisions around their impacts to our finances. How odd.

Want to reclaim yourself? The single toughest but most immediate step is to vow no more decisions based on money, zero. Damn the consequences.

Security

Ever hear this: I’m not really happy with life and would change it tomorrow, but how would I survive, where would I live, what would I do? Maybe it’s a friend confiding over a glass of wine, maybe it’s a pesky voice in your own head.

We get comfortable in our bubbles of habit and security. Maybe life isn’t a soft bed of fragrant roses, but at least it’s not full of anxiety. Change and uncertainty make us anxious.

Consider for one reckless moment that it’s time to be a bit untethered and noncompliant. You can choose to face the unknown as a set of risks or list of possibilities. It can be how would I survive, where would I live, what would I do? Or it can be what new skills can I develop, new people can I meet, new horizons can I discover? Most importantly, you can approach change for what it is: the chance and excuse to reinvent and rediscover.

We are packrats with our bad tendencies; I know that I am. Only a disruptive move or change dislodges them from my routine. There’s no better time than midlife to question what’s important, go grab it, and leave the rest behind, despite the risks. (As for the anxiety that may result from your rash and reckless disregard for security I suggest meditation, sex, and the occasional joint.)

Want to reclaim yourself? A big step #2: no more safe decisions based on security.

Feelings

We stay too long in relationships, personal and professional, out of concerns for peoples’ feelings. It’s honorable to consider others’ happiness but serves no one to dial in a performance that is insincere, apathetic, and prolongs inevitable closure.

I’ve let people down at inopportune times and have been troubled by my betrayal and own egoism. I’ve quite rock bands and startups and corporate positions where my positions were key and the timings of my departures were disruptive. I recently broke up with a woman who loved me deeply. Feelings get hurt, colleagues and lovers feel betrayed, and we feel horrible. But life in all its unpredictable beauty is full of uncertainties and risks. Interests and priorities can change. The greater sin is remaining in expired situations and blaming others for our unhappiness and sense of entrapment. We have to be adults about this.

picasso giftWe also have to acknowledge that our gifts are unique and there is an obligation to share them to the best of our abilities. Each of us has a Picasso-sized gift waiting to be uncovered, developed, and shared. This can require life pivots that cause real damage.

Your inception was a miracle and your genetic inheritance was unimaginably unpredictable. Consider that going back just 10 generations all of the sets of parents in your inception line managed to survive wars, famine, plagues, terminal disease, premature birth, and other unpleasant forms of nasty demise before siring. Somehow each survived long enough to forward their genes, some of which are floating around your corporeal vessel at this very moment. The 10 male forbearers each produced about 250-300 million sperm per day if healthy and each and every one had a unique DNA profile, some elegant piece of genetic code that on some enchanted evening made it upstream through the generational spawning ladders to you. There is no one on this planet with your unique profile of education, experience, and talents and you have a responsibility to offer them up. Right? Should you let the fear of hurt feelings get in the way of this obligation?

Indeed everyone deserves kindness and respect in these situations. But that respect extends to you as well. In fact, you are your first priority.

Want to reclaim yourself? A sometimes painful step #3: no hesitations out of a fear of hurt feelings.

Judgment

No one enjoys being judged poorly. If I quite my job, leave my spouse, or move away what will my parents think, my friends think, my boss or colleagues think, my kids think? We waver over our actions and defer to the comfort of group acceptance, suitably tamed and compliant. What a terrible impulse.

judgedIt is patently unfair to blame others for our own unfilled desires and ambitions. Yet we hear it constantly, particularly in the final years. The what could have beens if I didn’t have this or that commitment to meet. As mentioned above, one of the common regrets in later life is not pursuing our real passions and much of that stems from a fear of judgment. But as also mentioned above, there is only one obligation: raising our kids responsibly, and that doesn’t require staying in dead-end jobs, expired marriages, or same cities. Think about the examples those decisions set for your impressionable brood. My mom sacrificed everything for me, and I’ll be a good mother and sacrifice all for my kids because I want them to be the best that they can be. But wait, based on your example they will feel obliged to sacrifice for their kids, who sacrifice it all for their own, and on and on. Who the hell gets to benefit from this solarium system of martyrdom?

If your actions are self-serving you will surely be judged, but who better to serve than yourself at the most fundamental core? If you live through the lens of others’ expectations, how will you align with the most authentic sense of yourself and be truly understood and appreciated? Who knows and appreciates that identity better than you?

Want to reclaim yourself? A courageous step #4: no hesitations from the fear of judgments (which are surely to come).

“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
– Dylan Thomas

Taking a jackhammer to your secure life foundation sounds horrifying, but here’s the good news. If your list in defense of inaction is long and convincing, the hammer can be safely tucked away (for now). If not, there’s no better time for disruption than midlife. You’re maturity, self-awareness, skill set, and helpful connections have never been stronger. You probably have some financial buffer to see you through a gap, at least more now that at 25. And it’s been shown that we start to lose this constant anxiety over money at midlife and focus more on happiness and self realization.

Grow old gracefully, compliantly? To hell with that.

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence

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Suggested Song: Sunny Afternoon, the Kinks
Suggested Drink: 2015 La Rose Des Ventes rosé, Cotes de Provence

Your author hard at work.
Your author hard at work.

It’s Wednesday afternoon and hopefully someone is working. Are you? Because I’m floating around a placid lake in the south of France with a few friends, enjoying the Mediterranean sun and warm breeze and a bottle or two of Provence rosé. We forgot to bring plastic cups so have dissected small water bottles into goblet pairs. Amazing how creative one can get with a bold thirst and Swiss Army knife.

We’ve rented two small electric powered boats; one for the adults and one for our teen daughters. They’ve set out up the gorge in search of flirtatious mischief and a discreet cove to probably smoke something tucked into a bikini bottom. They would deny all of this of course.

We watch from a receding distance and putter along leisurely, recounting our own tales of youth and sharing details that only great friends care to hear. There is no rush, … to go where? … to power aggressively through one of the most stunning river systems in Europe, the beautiful Gorges du Verdon at the southern base of the French Alps, with its limestone cliffs carving dramatically down into the cool turquois-green water? The good lord was having a inspired day when she cast this spot.

It is a small boat, a lazy pace, and a best-of-friends moment. The sun is bronzing our shoulders from a pastel blue Cezanne sky. Are you working, keeping the wheels of industry turning, the flows of the economy flowing, craving that rush hour drive home in your fabulous gleaming Tesla or BMW or whatever the driven class drive these days? I truly hope so, because the world needs you. We float in our 15-foot rental and praise you, we toast you with another pour of the bottle. God bless you.

First mate with an engineered goblet
First mate with an engineered goblet

We’ll gather with our girls in an hour to share a simple late lunch of smoked salmon and lettuce sandwiches in poppy seed baguettes, and local Provence cherries and strawberries from the market this morning. It’s hot but we have lots of water and plentiful ice for the wine, and now the carved-up plastic cups. All is good. All is really good actually.

This makes me think about the goings on in my old stomping grounds of San Francisco. Tom Perkins died there last week. He was an originator and titan of Silicon Valley’s venture capital industry and amassed a great, great fortune investing in companies like Genentech and Tandem Computers. Perkins was a man of big appetites and had commissioned the 289-foot clipper the Maltese Falcon (at that time the world’s largest private sailing yacht). He must have enjoyed some amazing times on that massive beast, champagning the biggest celebrities, wooing the hottest models (just saying it’s possible), traversing the oceans blue. Well perhaps not too much free time for traversing blue oceans. That high-gain, high-burn vc lifestyle doesn’t tend to pair well with extended, low-stress getaways. Unlikely he’d have been caught dead on our dingy, drinking discount wine out of MacGyvered cups. We would have enjoyed having him aboard I think. What an exchange.

I think about Perkins and his accomplished life while bobbing around on this warm serene day, chilled rosé in hand. I hope he died a happy man, with that keen knack for moneymaking and great talent for toy buying: the boats and Bugatti collection and massive homes. He probably did, what do you think? Maybe he got buried in one of his Bugattis, that would be cool. Who said you can’t take it with you? He did get touchy about his wealth status near the end, writing that the rich in America were being unfairly persecuted in a manner last visited on the Jews in Nazi Germany. It’s a weird paradox: the more we have, the less willing we are to share it. Money is like that, cocaine is like that, rosé with good friends isn’t like that.

How’s that commute going?

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence

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Suggested Song: Garden Party, Ricky Nelson
Suggested Drink: Strawberry basil margaritas: strawberries, lime, basil, tequila

A new spring edition of Bill’s fabulous adventures in Provence. It is easy to write about this time of the year, with the eager return to longer days, changes in the local farmers markets, and the resumption of warm weather rituals that most often center around drinks and socializing.

connectionI’ll start, though, with an epiphany of sorts: smart phone addiction is little different than other forms of unhealthy dependence, and the loss of its tickle in our pockets leads many of us through the same series of withdrawal emotions.

I suffered through 5 days sans connection recently. My iPhone went missing after a Saturday night of pronounced revelry at the restaurant Les Agapes in Aix. There was eating, there was drinking, there was singing and dancing, and my socket to the wireless ether vanished mysteriously through a wormhole of midnight excess. These things can happen when we’re having serious fun.

As the next day was a Sunday and the day after that had me on an early morning train to Paris, there was no time for quick replacement, so I resigned myself for a few days of unconnected disquietude. This I experienced:

  • Day 1, Sunday: denial, anger, depression, acceptance (that my phone was indeed gone, dammit)
  • Day 2, Monday: comprising, coping (through another day – this one traveling – without constant connectivity)
  • Day 3, Tuesday: observing, realizing (all the ways my smart phone distracts, demands attention, and eats up my precious life minutes)
  • Day 4, Wednesday: embracing, flourishing (the minutes and hours freed from uninterrupted connectivity and distraction)
  • Day 5, Thursday: denial, anger, depression, acceptance (that my new phone had arrived)

For a final word on this topic I defer to Prince Ea’s compelling recent video: Can we auto-correct humanity?

Artist: Jennifer Pochinski
Artist: Jennifer Pochinski

Back to the warming weather, we took advantage of longer daytime hours this past weekend to throw a casual dinner party in a friend’s garden. Spring training for the competitive season that will be in full swing by May. Creating an Aix-Mex menu from the spring vegetables in the local markets was challenging great fun, and with the aid of said friend’s massive grill we offered up fajitas of slow-roasted skirt steak (onglet to my local French butcher) and melt-in-your-mouth beef tongue, peppery gambas marinated in Italian lime and cilantro, papas con chorizo with spicy Spanish sausage, and an amazing Provençal inspired pico de gallo with local tomatoes (just starting to find their flavor now), green onions, and roasted chili peppers. Homemade cornbread and a just-from-the-oven chocolate cake filled out the menu. Yee haw.

All in there were 27 of us – half kids – enjoying this spring fling; no phones sitting on the table or gripped instinctively in needy hands. Just great conversation and catching up after the dark days of winter. Another bottle please. Life is short, the world is beautiful. Unplug, connect.

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence

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Suggested Song: You Only Live Once, The Strokes
Suggested Drink: Forever Young Cocktail, gin, cranberry juice, club soda

It’s been sobering start to 2016 for the bulletproof believers amongst us. You know, we flag bearers of the centennial club, confident that at 100 we’ll still be kicking on most cylinders and fully engaged, and then softly, painlessly fail to wake up one sunny morning.

David_Bowie-06It’s a comforting fable for Big Idea procrastinators like me. Why do today what we have 40 more years to achieve? Zen, relax. And then we hear that certain ageless celebrities of our youth – David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Dale Griffin, and Alan Rickman, just this month alone – are dying from the frightening unmentionables like cancer, Alzheimer’s, and colitis before the age of 70. It’s a deflating jab to our comfort bubble.

The centennial club thrives on 2 fundamental deceits: when and how we’ll die. In reality we shouldn’t expect to tick past 83, which remains the average lifespan for the much of the western world. And we won’t likely expire peacefully in our sleep. We’ll probably succumb to the kinds of disorders and diseases that snatched the headline names mentioned above. It won’t be pretty and it will rob us of a few final years of fun and frolic. We won’t be supernovas, expanding in unbound potential until a final blinding flash leaves us scattered to the ashes. Damn.

So let’s get real. Let’s assume that our productive years wind down at 80, after which we’ll drool over endless rounds of bridge, shuffleboard, and acceptable wine on decks of the Carnival Cruise Lines. How many months are left then to do something grand, to pursue a legacy ambition that leaves us feeling accomplished and complete, that our unique purpose for being on this beautiful planet at this amazing time has been served? At 50 we can expect 360 more months and at 60 just 240 months. Sounds like a lot, sounds like so little.

Anxiety over our lack of effective runway can also be debilitating. Why try to take on something ambitious if there is insufficient time to implement it? Bowie and Frey were wasting time in rock bands in their teens, a time when we were planning responsible careers. They had decades to experiment, fail, perfect, and establish their genius. What hope is there to start at midlife, regardless of our ambitions, music or otherwise?

dont just standThe fact is we’re never better positioned to pursue quixotic adventures than at midlife. You probably have more disposable income at 50 then 20, are less impulsive and smarter about the world, have established a helpful network of support (even if 1-2 degrees removed), are no longer distracted by childrearing (although child-funding never ends!), and are driven less by considerations that are purely financial (that corrupt your vision), more by self realization (which distills your vision).

For a lot of reasons we can’t expect to launch a stellar career at 50 like Bowie’s, but we can still find success, recognition and respect, and establish a more authentic self, whether it’s as a musician, writer, artist, restaurateur, winemaker, nonprofit director, extreme athlete, teacher, yoga instructor, life coach, or whatever represents that grand ambition of deep personal meaning to you.

The point is this: there is no better time than now to get to it. The real prize is the journey and self-discovery as much as the final creation of our endeavors. In a few years someone will be writing your obit; perhaps the same person who summarized the lives of those above. Give her something to smile about.

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence

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Suggested song: Woodstock, Joni Mitchell (this is the CSN&Y rendition I love)
Suggested drink: Harvest Bell Lemonade, organic vodka, lemonade, basil, lemon slice, simple syrup

We are stardust
We are golden
And we’ve got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

Much is written on the merits of eating locally and seasonally. I’m a fan and advocate, and adopting this practice in Provence is easy and immensely pleasurable. The benefits of adapting to seasonal changes extend well beyond an evolving dinner plate, however. Acknowledging that we’re in the month of October, not May, and cooking and eating accordingly encourages us to consider nature and our environment; it inspires respect and empathy for the earth’s bounty and limits. In the age of hyper connectivity and globalized availability – Blueberries in December? No problem! – we lose this appreciation and are the worse for it.

My adult life has been largely enjoyed in San Francisco, where there are just 2 seasons really in the city proper: chilly, foggy season A (winters and summers) and glorious, less foggy season B (springs and falls). To be fair to the larger Bay Area, 15 minutes sunflowers2outside the city in any direction and the climate dynamics are wildly different.

Getting back to a full climate cycle was one of the many attractions I anticipated when moving to Provence. The changing seasons define life here beyond just weather, but also in ways edible, social, visual, and cultural. Provence is colored by brilliant summer yellows, somber winter greys, by fresh spring greens and fading autumn browns in all shades from blossom to decay. It is a cycle that keeps things in flow and evolving, changing in predictable patterns that echo previous seasons but never truly repeat. This cycle also ties us to our surrounds in ways more natural and organic, less artificial and technologic. And this is a very healthy thing: enriching, humbling, authenticating.

strawberries2Placed between the Alps and Mediterranean, Provence swings from bone chilling Januaries to sweltering Julys. This change stimulates a vast range of local fruits and vegetables, flowers and herbs, wines and oils and nuts. Local Gariguette strawberries and Charantais melons fill the market stalls with shades of orange and red – and pesky honeybees – through the warm summer days. The fields are ablaze with sunflowers and lavender. The aromas are inviting, seductive. During the darker months gourdes of every odd shape and size, and middle earth root vegetables like turnips and rutabagas inspire child-terrorizing recipes. Cool salad plates yield to steaming soup bowls. Sweet red and black raspberries give way to cepe mushrooms and the savage black truffle: formidable king of all French fungi.

roseOther selections on the Provence menu are seasonal as well. The café scene is vibrant year around, but the outdoor terrace reigns supreme for coffee and drinks in summer. Without outdoor seating your restaurant business is somewhere between anemic to 100 percent dead. Socializing with a cool glass of rosé or pastis in the early evenings under a warm Mediterranean sun is pure bliss. A light dinner of shared charcuterie, cheese and bread is plenty when the weather is still balmy at 10 p.m. And with the elegant baroque setting of Aix and beautiful pageantry on display why stay home, and when out why be inside?

The out/in seating bias evolves gradually to a complete 180° flip by year end, with those same terraces now the exclusive domain of a few weather-defiant smokers, bundled up for a shivering fix in heavy winter coats while the rest of us crowd into cozy, packed interiors, warmed by wood fired ovens, calming aperitifs, and simmering plates of delicious this or that. Summer nibbles and pale rosés give way to hearty menus and full-bodied reds. The winter din is unique to the season, the chatter amplified by the tight enclosed quarters, the espresso machines hissing, the waiters barking, the clatter of coffee cups and wine glasses and silverware being served or collected.

As the daylight hours dwindle and temperatures drop we start to entertain more at home and indoors. I struggle to find my Escoffier toque when the thought of sweating before a hot stove top in midsummer is the reward. By October there is no place I’d rather be. The changes in local produce at the outdoor markets give us a chance to mix up the dinner menu, the entrees, the wine selection and cocktail starters. What an opportunity to find harmony with the sun, moon, rain, wind, and dirt; with the terroir as they say in France. Respect for and adaption to our climate cycles is a sign of humility, a deference that is critical in this period of extreme climate events that reveals a nature mother aggravated by our false sense of control and hubris.

earthWe can choose to insulate ourselves from the natural world or embrace its messy chaos and diversity. We’re brimming with modern technologies that enable sterile, inert lives largely impervious to the seasons. Increasingly we encapsulate ourselves in the great digital bubble, plugged in to an endless and fascinating online universe that gives no hints of the natural world, the real world. And that’s our collective loss.

Our climate has become unhinged thanks to a global appetite for better lives, bigger homes, a car or 2 in the garage, and more stuff – in essence the “good life” – with ignorance (initially) and disregard (ultimately) for the ugly environmental impact of this pursuit. Isolating ourselves from the natural elements only widens the disconnect and exacerbates the problem. What’s on your menu tonight?

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence

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Suggest Song: Distractions, Sia
Suggested Drink: McCallan Cask Strength Single Malt Scotch, served neat

noun dis·til·la·tion \ˌdi-stə-ˈlā-shən\ : to extract the essence of something

We saturate our time and space with unessential distractions. The online world offers an endless spring of mildly interesting, mostly superfluous reading, and our smartphones with their noisy arrays of buzzes, bells, and beeps demand our attention like bratty kids. Not to be outbid, the brick-and-mortar world demands equal time and its pound of flesh, promising eternal consumer happiness. Our time gets diluted, our space gets inundated, and our defining essence becomes a bland blend of muddle.

knife setWe self-define through our stuff. I am a master homechef because I have 12-piece cutlery set and full array of All-Clad pans and pots. I am a talented musician because a Martin D28 or Fender Stratocaster is resting on the guitar stand in my living room. I am an astounding sommelier because my wine cave is brimming with expensive bottles. What a wonderful world it would be if aptitude and skill could be a purchase away.

The best homechefs I know have limited kit: a few essential pots and pans and perhaps 3 solid, razor-sharp knives. They focus on technique, ingredients, and presentation. My ex mother-in-law produced some of the most delicious Spanish dishes I’ve tasted from a tiny kitchen and with unremarkable equipment in her Barcelona flat. I don’t recall ever seeing a cookbook on the counter. She’s never had internet access for recipe look up and only recently got a mobile phone (emergency calls only!). She wouldn’t know Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsey if they bit her on the ankle, … but I think they would love her empanadas and paella.

The most entertaining piano player in Aix-en-Provence – David Brulin – can be seen pushing his ragged piano through town to the markets at noon and restaurants at night (La Cita every Thursday!). The faded instrument’s brand is anyone’s guess, the keys have long since lost their ivory sheen, the hammers and strings rattle and jangle as it rolls on a dollie through the bumpy alleys. But when David takes his seat it might as well be a Steinway. It’s his well-honed skill at the keys that gets your feet tapping, not the name on the lid.

distractionUnfortunately, mastery comes through practice only, and these distractions of ours divert energy and attention from that pursuit. I admit to this sin in spades. If there is one thing at which I’m truly a master, it’s finding trivial things to sidetrack my focus. And it’s not my fault! We’re all under constant assault to check out the latest gizmo or app. This arrived from Apple last week in my inbox: 7 Underrated Apps You Didn’t Know You Needed! These included RunPee that “lets you know the best time to pee during movies so you don’t miss any good scenes” and Plant Nanny that “comes with cute little plants (on your phone) that are meant to remind you to drink your water regularly.” Damn right, I didn’t know I needed those.

So how do we cut through the noise? These 5 practices help me so might help you:

  1. List: Make a short list of passions you most enjoy and want to master; those things by which you want to be defined. Cooking, fitness, writing, music, …? Everyone’s list is unique. What is on your list?
  2. Commit: Reserve time on your daily or weekly calendar for each passion and do your best to respect the commitments, and that means saying no to friends and family who call with last minute invitations.
  3. Control: Tame your email and internet beasts by checking emails and the latest news 2-3 times daily and no more. I’m trying to stick to (1) first thing in the morning, (2) at noon, and (3) late afternoon before the apéro hour. When the will is weak I turn the wifi router off during “my hours.”
  4. Master: The better we get at something the more we want to get even better at it. Adopt practices that promote your growth and mastery in the passions you’ve selected and a virtuous upcycle will develop, pulling you to commit even more time. And remember to emphasize the practices, not the accessories.
  5. Meditate: Just 5 minutes per day helps clear my head and calm the noise.

As mentioned earlier, my discovery in mental distillation continues to be a work in process and I’m looking for suggestions and experiences we can share with my community of readers. Anything you care to note?

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence

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Suggested drink: Rum punch recipe, pineapple juice, orange juice, Bambarra rum, grenadine
Suggested song: Kokomo, Beach Boys

We descended on Turks & Caicos last week to celebrate the 50th birthday of a great friend. There were 25 or so in the group, arriving in clumps as summer schedules allowed, couples and singles and kids in tow for the family few.

The Caribbean is wilting in July and between the pool and beach we were growing gills by the end of the week. Constant hydration was le rigueur, with a steady water infusion plus rotating lineup of cold Presidente beer, rosé wine and local rum punch as the sun dipped from noon to night.

conchSea life

Turks & Caicos has the third largest coral reef in the world. Its beaches have been voted the most beautiful, it’s diving the most stunning on this planet by Tripadvisor and others. The water is warm and calm and visibility exceeds 100 feet, sometimes more. Needless to say the boating and snorkelling is unforgettable.

The variety of sea life darting over and through the vibrant coral is a visual feast, from spinning swarms of tiny forage fish to solitary predators gliding majestically over the sandy floor. Blue tangs and bar jack, eagle rays and lemon sharks and barracuda, parrotfish and trumpet fish and damselfish, … and conch. Oh the conch! This large spiral sea snail is the sought-after celebrity of Turks & Caicos and served in most every eatery, as raw ceviche, over tender leaves of salad, deep fried into fritters, however you enjoy it. It’s the royal plate for the well-heeled to the flip-flopped. It’s colorful, delicious, and makes for one hell of a sea horn. Yes, by week’s end we grew gills and had conch coming out of our ears.

IMG_0229Land life

The birthday party group at Turks was as diverse as the fish in the crystalline blue sea. We were old and young, gay and straight, black and white and beige and olive, carnivores and herbivores and pescetarians, liberal and conservative, wealthy and not nearly so, some overworked and a few unemployed, flying in from all points on the globe. Among us were doctors and consultants and professionals of every stripe, restaurateurs and a bartender, jewelry shop owners and a jewelry designer, musicians and writers (who isn’t these days?), a physical therapist and a garbage man, students and grandmothers. Who am I missing?

I’m convinced that this variety was key to the unending smiles, hugs, and the warm and familial vibe of the amazing week. We open ourselves to the diversity of colors around us and our worlds become richer and vastly more fascinating. Among our immediate and extended networks, and networks beyond that, we have the diversity of the boundless sea. Why limit our reach to fish of our own color and stripe?

The merits of openness extend beyond simply more interesting rum cocktail conversation. Many of us have grand ambitions that profit from a wide spectrum of connections, experiences and advice from all walks of life and corners of the sea. Limit your network and you limit your possibilities. Teach, learn, grow, … now where’s that rum punch?

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence

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Suggest Song: Something New, Nikki Yanofsky
Suggested Drink: Bee Tea cocktail, Bärenjäger honey liqueur, tea, lemon wedge

Judy Freedman writes a wildly popular blog called A Baby Boomer Woman’s Life After 50 (click here to go there). She’s a featured blogger in the Huffington Post and has also been published in HealthWomen.org, Midlife Boulevard, VibrantNation.com and others publications. You don’t need to be a woman to enjoy Judy’s wit and wisdom and I have been a fan for a few years now.

Judy lives of what she writes and her past few years have seen significant change and growth, a classic interpreneurial journey from core career to reinvention and new ambitions of deep personal meaning. She had also lost her husband during this time. We reconnected recently and I asked Judy for an interview and a few suggestions for others traveling the same path. I’m confident that you will find her experiences fascinating and lessons being learned inspiring. We cover a lot of territory in the interview, perfect for rosé reading on a summer afternoon. Enjoy!

BM: What did you do professionally for a core career Judy and what precipitated your decision to consider a new direction?

JF: I’ve always been in communications. I started my career on the editorial side as a magazine editor. A few years later, I moved into public relations at General Foods (now Kraft) and then joined Campbell Soup Company, working my way up the corporate ladder over 30 years. I held many jobs including overseeing brand PR campaigns, writing annual and corporate social responsibility reports, executing CEO and executive communications, building employee communications and creative services and multi-media departments, and more.

It was a wonderful career and I really enjoyed my time at Campbell. However, as I approached my 50th birthday, the year became a major turning point. Professionally, I started blogging and really enjoyed writing and hearing feedback from my virtual community of readers. Personally, my husband became ill that year and passed away shortly before my birthday.

Losing my husband at such a critical time in my life and then emptying my nest shortly after when both my children left the house – my daughter graduated from college and left for a job in NYC, and my son graduated high school and left for college – really jumpstarted my transformation.

I spent the next five years strategically preparing to leave my full-time job. I became more introspective as I worked with a personal coach. I studied mindfulness meditation and began a yoga practice. I expanded my blog, which began to be recognized with accolades from publications such as The Huffington Post and a Webby Award Honoree.

When I was given the opportunity to retire early from Campbell, I took the leap and I haven’t looked back.

Judy freedmanBM: You’ve had a truly accomplished and fulfilling career. How do you wind down from that? What are you doing now and what does it provide that your core career did not?

JF: My biggest challenge in the beginning was channeling all my interests – there’s so much I want to do during my second act and I’m immensely curious about many areas. I’ve spent the last two years trying to look at my passions and what brings me joy. Another focus has been bringing greater balance to my life. I take my work very seriously, yet I also take time to play.

I’ve continued to grow my blog at aboomerslifeafter50.com and become a contributor to The Huffington Post, HealthyWomen.org and other midlife publications. Along with blogging, I’ve expanded my reach as a social influencer working on campaigns with brands and causes I believe in and have a desire to support, such as positive aging, caregiving, eldercare, and health and wellness for boomer women.

My mindfulness and yoga practice greatly helped me to process my grief and transition after losing my husband. As I continued to explore my interests I realized that yoga was extremely fulfilling. It provided me with the physical movement I needed (after years of sitting at a desk and even now as a blogger), mental acuity (doing poses really requires you to focus and strengthen your core being), and spiritual understanding (through stillness and the Sanskrit teachings). I wanted to learn more about yoga and began to research teacher training programs in my area and other locations.

This winter I registered with Lourdes Institute for Wholistic Studies not too far from home and started a 200 Hour Yoga Instructor Training program. I love being a student again and look forward to sharing my knowledge with others once I receive my certification in 2016.

BM: So some major changes then. What do you see yourself doing in 5 years, living where, working with whom?

JF: Five years is a long way off. Yogic philosophy reminds us to live in the present moment, so I’ve been trying to enjoy each day and each hour of my day. My hope is that I will be practicing and teaching yoga to other mature adults so they can age gracefully and live a long healthy life.

I’ve had some job opportunities, but I don’t see myself working full-time in a corporate environment again. I enjoy my flexible lifestyle after years of having such structure. I want to continue to give back to my community and more broadly pass down all the knowledge I have learned to help others achieve their dreams.

Traveling is a favorite – so I hope I remain healthy so I can explore all the places on my bucket list.

BM: What were your primary motivations then and how have they changed?

JF: When I was younger, my primary motivation was to provide for my family. I was partially driven by the paycheck because I was the main breadwinner. Once my children were born, my husband and I decided he would be a stay-at-home dad. His health issues made it more conducive to this lifestyle.

I was a highly competitive type A person – went to an Ivy League college, went into a corporate environment afterwards and climbed the ladder. I thrived in large, complex organizations.

However, spending so many years under fast-paced, high-stress conditions takes its toll on the body and the mind. Plus, after experiencing the trauma of my husband’s illness and death, it’s a reminder that we are only on this earth for a short time and life is finite.

present-momentToday, I am more motivated by my passions and all the things that inspire me rather than the paycheck. I don’t need much – the big house, the expensive clothes and accessories – they aren’t necessary. I’ve learned to live on a lot less and with a lot less, but I feel like I have so much more. My relationships are richer and my experiences deeper because I am living in the present.

I’ve become more introspective and in some ways more selfish, but in a good way. I still give to others, but I also take time to stop, breathe and be. As the Taoist Proverb says, “No one can see their reflection in running water. It is only in still water that we can see.”

BM: Did you follow any particular process to structure your thinking and create a plan for change?

JF: I worked with a wonderful coach/therapist after my husband died. She encouraged me to study mindfulness and yoga as a way to live in the present. It helped me get through the grieving process. I also reached out for guidance and love from my friends and family members.

On the professional side, I was getting restless shortly before I turned 50 and my world turned upside down. I knew I wanted to make a change, but wasn’t sure what I wanted to do or how I was going to do it. My husband was older than me and we had always talked about my retiring early.

Sometimes when you put yourself out there, the universe responds. I never dreamed that my little blog would become the center of my life after 50. It was so fulfilling to hear the positive comments each week and to develop my writing skills– skills that I always had, but used in different ways. Going to blogging conferences opened me up to a whole new group of talented midlife women from all parts of the country. Many have become good friends.

After my children left the nest and both finished college, I had more flexibility financially. I sold my house and moved into a smaller townhome. I also bought a small property at the shore – my condo on the corner – was a perfect place to refresh and renew. The ocean waves are very calming to the senses.

I also started budget planning to see how much I needed on a monthly basis. It’s a really good eye-opener. I still keep track of my budget each month to see where I’m spending and if I’m in line with my goals. If I go over one month, I try to conserve the next month.

Through my blogging I connected with AARP (American Association of Retired People) and did some work with their Life Reimagined mapping. It provides six guideposts to make change:

  • Reflect: pausing before you start the journey. Mindfulness and yoga offer very beneficial exercises for reflection.
  • Connect: getting feedback and counsel from friends and guides. After leaving my full-time job, I worked with a career coach (different from my therapist/coach) to look at my strengths and interests.
  • Explore: this is the discovery and testing step – curiosity and courage are essential to finding the way forward. This step was exciting and at the same time challenging for me because I have so many interests.
  • Choose: narrowing of options. As my work/life played out I saw that while I enjoyed my blogging, it wasn’t something I wanted to build a new business around. I don’t want to blog 24/7 or hire people to blog for me. I enjoy my writing and want to spend some of my hours pursuing this work, not every waking hour of every day. Whatever small amount I earn from my blogging I reinvest in my blog and in my knowledge building, such as going to social media conferences or investing in my blog design.

Judy freedman 2At the same time, I realized that yoga was becoming a bigger part of my schedule. I knew that I wanted to spend some part of my day and my work in a more active space of health and wellness. That’s when I decided why not bring it a step further and pursue yoga instructor training.

  • Repack: deciding what to let go of and what to keep. I had to let go of all the baggage that was holding me back from moving forward. Part of that was selling my house – which I loved but was a financial, emotional, and physical drain on me after my husband’s passing.

My heart has mended after such a significant loss. The love never fades for a lost spouse – the hole just gets smaller. About two years after my loss, I decided I wanted more companionship. I tried online dating and was lucky to meet a fellow New Yorker living nearby. We had lots in common and today he is the new love of my life – it’s a different kind of love the second time around.

I’ve changed my diet to better address my health issues. I am on the FODMAP diet, better known as the “tummy diet” and I no longer have heartburn or take any medications for heartburn. I’m eating more mindfully.

  • Act: a first step toward making things real, releasing the energy through the optimism that comes with choice, curiosity, and courage. I did make choices when I sold my home, left my job, and committed to yoga instructor training.

follow dreamsThese six steps are an iterative process and once you finish, you likely will be ready to start all over again. I’ve learned from my yoga training that life is always changing but flowing with the river is a more positive way to move forward.

*Note: More details about these steps can be found in the book Life Reimagined: Discovering Your New Life Possibilities (click here to go there)by Richard J Leider and Alan M Webber.

BM: We’ve talked about different resources you’ve found helpful. Any additional books or articles that you found particularly enlightening or inspirational during this phase of consideration?

JF: As I mentioned earlier, I read the NY Times every day and learn so much from so many articles and stories. Plus, the Life Reimagined book was thought-provoking.

The last leadership meeting I organized at Campbell included one of my all-time favorite speakers and authors, Malcolm Gladwell. Gladwell is a great historian and researcher. He takes simple concepts and turns them into big ideas that can facilitate change within individuals and organizations. The Tipping Point, Blink, Outliers, David and Goliath – all are excellent.

I like to listen to podcasts while I ride on my stationary bicycle each morning. On-Being with Krista Tippet. Tippet has a soothing voice as she interviews fascinating experts on various topics such as mindfulness, psychology, and philosophy.

Plus, I highly recommend subscribing to Dr. Deepak Chopra’s email newsletter. One of my favorite posts was “For the New Year, Do Something Better Than A Resolution.” He describes “The Four Intentions” to follow for the year. As he says, “There are countless things a person can want, but being consistent for a whole year with four basic intentions gives you a greater chance for success, because these intentions don’t run into inner obstacles – – they fit every lifestyle, belief system, personality, and individual situation.

I keep “The Four Intentions” on my bulletin board in my office and re-read them every so often. They are:

  1. I want a joyful, energetic body.
  2. I want a loving, compassionate heart.
  3. I want a restful, alert mind.
  4. I want lightness of being.

These simple intentions are an approach I aim to master during my second act.

BM: What advice would you offer for anyone considering a new and grand ambition, a dramatic shift toward a new direction?

hospiceJF: Let go and take the first step. Sometimes change happens because we make it happen. Sometimes it happens when we least expect it. Flow with the river, not against the current – it’s too hard to paddle backwards.

Do some planning in advance. Look at your values, your goals, your monthly and yearly expenses (if that is something that is going to be impacted by your new direction). What do you have to give up to get what you want? Sometimes you have to make compromises.

Don’t rush. Remember the Taoist Proverb, ““No one can see their reflection in running water. It is only in still water that we can see.”

When I lost my husband and turned 50, I realized that life is short. If I wasn’t going to make changes now, what was I waiting for?

BM: Clearly, plans for your amazing website have changed. What was the original objective and where is it heading? Will it continue?

When I started this blog I had just turned 50, my husband had passed away. My kids were both leaving the nest. My entire world had changed. I wanted to share my reinvention that was unfolding with the virtual community of women who had followed my countdown to 50 (my original blog was ayearto50.blogspot.com). They wanted judy freeman 4to know what was going to happen to me.

I was inspired to capture in writing what I was going through and how I was evolving and transforming in mind, body, and spirit as I entered the second half of my life. My goal was to reach other boomer women who were going through the same or similar experiences and show them that they are not alone (and show myself that I am not alone either.) I also wanted to address aging in a positive and fun way. The second act can be a time of great experimentation, discovery, and joy. We will all face loss in our life – whether it is a parent, a spouse, a job, a pet – it is how we manage after that loss that is our defining moments.

Looking back on the past seven years, I had a great fear of being alone when my husband died and my kids left the nest. Now I’ve conquered that fear as I’ve reinvented myself and I want others to share in the experience in the hope that I can inspire them to not be afraid.

For now, I plan to continue to keep my blog going. I usually write weekly on a wide variety of topics including health and wellness, fashion and beauty, aging and reinvention, and travel and leisure. I am curious about so many things and like to share what I learn.

Bill Magill
Aix-en-Provence