Marcia's Musings: Global Entry
/By Marcia Appel — Last Updated: May 8, 2025
Last December, my two children and their spouses suddenly decided it would be grand to travel to the Netherlands in March, only three short months away, to visit our family there. The plan included my five-year-old grandson and my 11-month-old granddaughter. “Wow,” I thought. “That’s a lot.”
Of course, I said yes.
Briefly, though, I panicked. Would I have the stamina with two little ones with us? Would the little humans turn their clocks or “fight to find their sleep”, as my mother used to say? Would they have any fun at all? Where would we stay? What should we focus on doing? I spun, whirled, and considered a million scenarios. Onward, I thought.
Onward turned out to be uplifting. We had a blast in Amsterdam and in my ancestral town of Elburg, with its intact 800-year-old center ringed by canals and outlets to the sea. We piled in with my cousin Wim and his wife, Debbie, and everything clicked thanks to them and the whole Zoet, Lokhorst, and Bos family. We laughed, we toured, we grew close once again, we cried from the joy of it all. The last day there, I snapped a shot of the ever-present flowers in my cousin’s kitchen, sunlight streaming through the windows straight into my heart.
Travel of all kinds entered my life at an early age, first because Dutch uncles, aunts, and cousins would come to visit, arriving by ship in the beginning and on jets by and by. In 1973, my parents and I journeyed to Holland for three weeks so that we could meet everyone on their own soil. It changed my life. Shortly thereafter, a company – Control Data – hired me and sent me to the corners of this country and a great swath of the world.
On each trip, my perspective changed. I experienced the world through others’ eyes. In Greece, stories of that ancient land and how it cradled democracy, fighting off invaders and pushing back against strongmen and kings again and again, moved me to tears. Working in Portugal, many years after a revolution restored independent thinking, I saw bullet holes in the outside walls of the elegant shops and hotels, a reminder of what citizens will sacrifice to restore the rule of law. In Milan, I poured over fabrics and designs in the great fashion houses. Later, as the editor of Twin Cities magazine, I toured NATO sites in Holland, France, and Germany as one of 12 community leaders from the Midwest to be invited to learn the history of this important collaboration.
When you travel, you grow. You learn to listen. You try the local cuisine. You wander the museums, cathedrals, synagogues, temples, mosques, winding streets, and broad boulevards. Along the way, the sense emerges of being a citizen of the world, albeit from your own roots. If you are brave, you embrace differences and other points of view, abandon defensiveness, try new ideas on for size. You raise a glass, and voices ring out, depending on where you are, “Cheers,” Sante” (French); “Cin Cin” (Italian); “Salud” (Spanish), and, in the case of the Netherlands, “Proost!”
It’s no wonder, then, that Green Lotus, after finding stable ground a few years after opening in 2007, would launch its retreats initiative. From modest beginnings in Minnesota locations, we moved on to Mexico. From there, in 2013, we traversed India for three weeks, crisscrossing that vast land by chartered buses and, eventually, by small planes when a railroad strike thwarted our best-laid plan. Ziya Tarapore, who taught for us at the time and was born and raised in India, served as our travel leader, which was a godsend many times over.
One of those occasions concerned Liz Heffernan, such an important figure in Green Lotus’s history. On that retreat, she ran afoul of a piece of barbed wire fencing outside a magnificent cultural site. Just like that, Ziya sent our group in for the tour while she commandeered our gigantic coach-sized bus. Off she went with Liz and her bleeding arm, joined by Liz’s friend Margie, Ziya calling out directions to the driver as we watched helplessly until tears caused by laughter rolled down our cheeks at the drama of it, knowing Liz rested in Ziya’s excellent hands.
Sometime later, they returned, three women and the bus driver alone in the over-sized vehicle. It was a sight to behold. Liz had received excellent care at the hospital and walked out with stitches. The whole visit – doctor's fee and hospital stay included – cost about $25. (Ask Liz about it the next time you have a class with her or see her at the Lakeville Center front desk.)
In a book I’m writing at the pace of a slug on a warm summer day, the India tale and other stories make appearances:
Biking in the rice paddies of Bali (which do not have the smooth ride you see in the movie Eat, Pray, Love!) in 2015;
Wearily and victoriously crossing the city line of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain in 2017 and walking (or hobbling) the last few miles to the sacred finish line of the renowned pilgrim’s path Camino de Santiágo. In the massive Praza do Obradoiro, the main square in front of the great cathedral which bears the city’s name, we celebrated with exhausted and exuberant people from around the world;
Swimming in Lake Atitlán in Guatemala in 2019 under the quiet eyes of three dormant volcanos and then meditating on a dock to the gently lapping waves;
Riding safari in Tanzania in 2023 with three of the best guides in the world and finding inseparable connection with each other, the Tanzanian people, the animals, and the land;
And there are more: Italy, Costa Rica, and a second Camino walk covering new territory.
In each country and on each journey, yoga called to us. We have practiced together in airports; on the shores of the Indian and Pacific oceans, the Gulf of Mexico, and Caribbean Sea; on pool decks, in shalas (studios) that are unspeakably beautiful and serene, on lawns on the grounds of beautiful retreat centers and villas, and in hotel meeting rooms when pressed. We have been led by local teachers in most countries; they impressed us with their kindness and skills and often changed our lives.
You return from retreats changed, humbled, and grateful for the opportunities. Often you come back thirsty for more. Many people now consider themselves Green Lotus “retreat warriors” with five or more trips under their belts.
Which brings me to this: In May 2026 we will spend eight days in Madeira, Portugal, an archipelago situated in the North Atlantic Ocean. It is a haven of natural beauty where tranquility meets adventure in its stunning landscapes of verdant forests, seascapes, volcanic mountains, and color-saturated gardens. The itinerary of wellness and adventure activities will provide a tapestry of rich experience and of community. Pease join us.
(A few spots remain for our Greece retreat this coming September, a trip we took last year and dearly love - so much that we wanted to repeat it.)
We will enter the global stream together. As we learn to know each other or reacquaint ourselves on this journey, we will raise our glasses and say, “Saúde (blessings to you).” And we will be forever glad we did.
