A Postcard from Above

 Happy 4th from Mile 13,790... 

... 3 stories up!

A couple passes on the sidewalk below.

My friends and I call them "The Nines."

They're in freshly-pressed whites -- she, a collared dress; he, a tee with dark jeans -- and matching straw hats.  They look good, as always.  

Dressed to the.... Well, you get the idea. :)

A blue Prius drives by, then a red Accord.  Both have the soft hum of electric engines which I've heard are just a sound effect for safety, yet always unnerve me.  They sound sneaky, like the breath of Darth Vader.

To the south, an airplane buzzes toward the airport.
To the north, a train rumbles over the Ben Franklin Bridge.

I'm up here on my balcony perch, observing it all.

I could venture out, explore the festivities.  

And maybe I should, but I know what my body needs.  

Tomorrow I'm driving to Virginia to see my friend Amy.  And Rule #1 of Adaptive Travel (at least for me) is "Pace yourself."

So I watch from above as icy Starbucks drinks bob along the sidewalk below.

"Aaah-oooo!"  A loud sneeze echoes off the buildings, so forceful it drops the "ch" all together.

"Daddy, you scared me!" says a small voice.

It belongs to a girl in a one-piece sunsuit, the kind I grew up wearing in the 70's.  It's blue and white gingham, buttoned at the shoulders, with red roses sprinked across the crinkly fabric.  She skips ahead to take her dad's hand.  

Cars clink over the manhole cover.
Bikes pass silently in the bikelane.

I watch people walk.  Always.

There are long legs,
bow legs,
short shorts,

swishy sundresses,
Crocs,

Birkenstocks, 

Hokas.

Me?

I watch from above with one shoe off and one shoe on.  (The prosthetic foot doesn't get hot!)

Since early this morning, I've been thinking about people, here and around the world, who don't have independence -- or won't in the days ahead.  

I often feel my own independence is tied to ability -- or disability.

But that's really just a small part of it.

Independence is like quality of life.  It's the freedom to make our own decisions, to write and speak and live in peace, to maximize our health, to safely access what we need.

Today, from up here, I'm grateful to have it all.

Happy 4th!

Walk on,

Rebecca

Sunflowers

Hello from Mile Marker 13,772 at Substack!

I feel like a stranger in a strange land here, but lucky for me, I've got a wondeful guide.  Fellow writer Gabrielle Kaplan-Mayer has a beautiful Substack called Journey with the Seasons, and she asked me if I'd write a guest post.

At her Summer Solstice Writing Circle last week, a 4-minute prompt planted the seed for this story.  I'm so grateful to share it with you.

Some walks shine brighter with time.  To me, this is one of them.  

Just click on the sunflowers below. :)

Thanks for walking (and reading) with me!
Rebecca

My first Substack piece! Thank you so much @Gabrielle Ariella Kaplan-Mayer for planting the seed for this story and spreading its light!

- Rebecca Levenberg

Read on Substack

Adaptive Travel Tip: Take a friend

I used to travel solo.

Now I rarely travel on my own.

This might be the biggest change to my travel habits since acquiring my disability...

Adaptive Travel Tip: Consider cultures close to home

You don't have to go far.

On my "Alive Day" each year, I like to focus on being present and grateful for... well, being alive.

I always want to do something special and out of the ordinary, but that's a bittersweet time of year for me, and often my energy is in short supply.

So where do you go when you're feeling drained -- and only have a few hours? ...

Adaptive Travel Tip: Choose "right-size" adventures

Travel isn't one-size-fits-all.

I don't know about you, but travel pushes my body into overload.

I walk more than usual, eat different foods, get less rest, carry more than my share of emergency supplies (see this tip!), and -- like even the most able-bodied traveler -- face weather and time changes.

Keeping pace, while keeping my body on an even keel, can be challenging!

Luckily, travel comes in many sizes...

Adaptive Travel Tip: Use trekking poles... sometimes!

Ability and disability can vary day-to-day and moment-to-moment.  

So using an assistive device isn't an "all or nothing" decision...

Adaptive Travel Tip: Ask about discounts

"If you don't ask, the answer is definitely no."

So says my good friend Elaine.

Back in February 2023, at New York City's MoMA, we put it to the test....

Adaptive Travel Tip: What's your best time of day?

Identify your best time of day -- and savor it.

Good morning?  Or good night?

With an amputation and chronic health issues, I get frustrated by the unpredictable nature of my body. 

It's taken me 14 years (and lots of good therapy!) to realize...

I don't just move through the world differently than able-bodied people.  

I move through TIME differently...

Adaptive Travel Tip: It's OK to overpack!

"Wait, what?"

I know.  I know.  Most travel gurus advise traving light.  

After all, everyday essentials are available almost anywhere in the world. 

When I hear them say this, I cringe a bit.  I'm not an expert, but I believe there's a caveat for amputees and others who travel with disability...

Adaptive Travel Tips from 13,500 Miles - Even the Smallest Steps Count

This was travel...

... BEFORE.

The summer before the accident, I did a home exchange with a family from Bordeaux, France.  

And the year before that, I exchanged with a family from Provence.  

It was the perfect way to travel.  I could go solo, live in someone's house, hop on their bicycle, and explore the world like a local.  

I was convinced it was how I'd travel for the rest my life...

Happy 14th Walking Day!

Stepping into Mile 13,354...

Today marks 14 years since I took my first steps on a prosthetic leg!

You might not remember your first steps, but when you take them a second time around, you remember everything.

I can still hear prosthetist Tim telling me, "Small with the left.  Big with the right."  (Above-knee amputees tend to take an exaggerated step with their prosthetic side.)

I can still hear him say, "Great.  That was great."   (Those words filled me with hope and joy!)

On the night of February 11, 2011, my family and I crowded around the kitchen table to watch that grainy video a thousand times on my laptop!

I knew back then I would never take walking for granted.

It's still true. 

I walk around the block every morning.  
I walk the hospital corridors at work. 
I walk around the kitchen while I'm making dinner.  
I walk in the grocery store.  
I walk on sidewalks, and across streets, and (carefully) over cobblestones.  

The gift of walking never wears off.

But 13,354 miles -- and 14 years -- is a long way from that starting line.  By the time I realize today is "Walking Day," it's mid-afternoon and snow is on the way.

Ugh.  I don't walk in snow, even after 14 years.

So I head to the gym and hop on my favorite treadmill, which offers virtual "walks" in several countries.

No problem.  I'll walk in Singapore!

It's a beautiful walking day there.  Sun reflects off the buildings.  The trees are tropical green.  The path is paved and clean.  

In my earbuds, I turn on an episode of Deviate with Rolf Potts.  He's interviewing Rick Steves about his newest book, On the Hippie Trail, a journal of his 1970's trip from Istanbul to Kathmandu as a 23-year-old.

I'm walking with my two favorite travel writers!  What better way to celebrate the day?

Walking through Singapore reminds me of my friend and fellow writer Sameer, who lives there with his family.  I met Sameer at Rolf Potts's Paris Writing Workshop in 2023.  

And thinking about that trip to Paris reminds me how far I've come.

(That's Sameer on my right!)

When I took my first steps back in 2011, I thought I'd never travel again -- at least not like I did before the accident.

In a sense, that was true. 

I travel differently now, adapting in ways I couldn't yet imagine.

The path in Singapore curves through a shady area.   I walk past signposts, trash cans, spotlights, and call boxes while Rick Steves talks about depending on fellow travelers for directions and information.

 

Wayfinding. 

I don't know why that particular word comes to mind, but it seems especially meaningful today.

I think about my doctors, nurses, and rehab therapists.  Prosthetist Tim and his amazing team.

The friends, old and new, who've helped me march on.  My family who's there for me -- always.

They are my Wayfinders.  I'd be lost without them.

It's not the best "leg day," but it's not the worst either.  I wait to feel the familiar slip of my prosthetic socket, its rub on my skin, or the tiny leak of air that tells me my steps have expired.

I keep walking, longer than I usually do.  

Farther than I think I can. 

(Not that far.  But far for me!)

Finally, my right foot starts aching.  I want to keep going, but I have to stop.  I've learned, in 14 years, to listen to my body and respect its needs.

The path opens up to a harbor filled with bobbing, gleaming yachts.  I focus on that watery horizon.  

And press STOP.

Outside the gym, the first snowflakes swirl beneath the streetlights.  In my earbuds, Rick Steves reaches Kathmandu.  On the screen, Singapore disappears.

I stand there on the treadmill, catching my breath.  Grateful for all these steps.

I could go anywhere, I think.  Anywhere at all.

Happy Walking Day,

Rebecca

 

P.S.  You can read about past "Walking Days" at Mile 335, Mile 930, Mile 2,525  Mile 3,660 and here too!

Why Adaptive Travel?

Hello from Mile Marker 13,345...

Picture this:  Two adaptive travelers are planning a trip together. 

Wait, you don't have to.  Here's a photo.

It was January 2023, and my friend Mona and I had just booked airline tickets for a nine-day trip to Paris! 

We were excited!
(Who cares that the trip was still 7 months away?)

By our sky-high smiles, you might not detect the deliberations we poured into those plans: 

The length of the trip, 

time of the flights, 

disability services at the airport, 

the seats we'd need on the plane. 

We considered packing, pressure changes, legroom, "leg time," and what it would be like for our bodies to be crunched in a seat for 8 hours straight.  (Not to mention the recovery time we'd need at either end!)

Travel is different, and often difficult, with a disability.  But it's also a priviledge, brimming with possibility.

We saw both sides -- and couldn't wait to take that leap!

 

Recently, I was invited to speak with Wilmington Christiana Care's Amputee Education Group.  

It was my FIRST EVER presentation about Adaptive Travel!

I spent a month creating the content and much longer thinking about it.   

You could say I'd been working on it since my very first trip as an amputee.

That was Mile 21, a road trip to Maine
where I got by with A LOT of help from my friends!

 

I started the workshop with some ways to think about travel and what we bring with us -- our individual strengths and struggles, and how they might play out when we're away from home.  

When we travel, we can adapt ourselves, but we can also adapt our environment.  

Who are YOU as a traveler?  

What do you want -- and need -- along the way? 

It's only afterward, that I decide to do this exercise for myself.

(Go ahead.  It's fun to try!)

As a traveler, I'm ______. 

curious.  
resourceful.  
open-minded.  
optimistic.  

I like to laugh, talk to locals, and observe "everyday life" wherever I am.

I love to learn, especially about other cultures
like at this Danish pastry class!

Before my injuries, I traveled solo.

Now I take friends.

I want to do everything, but I need to be selective.  I have to prioritize mobility, comfort, rest, and digestion.  

(It's a delicate balance, one I often neglect!)

I've found some success...

But it's rarely stressless or pain-free.  

My needs outweigh my wants wherever I am.  

Take prosthetic fit, for example -- and the neverending struggle to manage it!

I can walk, but not too far.  

I can stand, but not too long.

I can sit, but not in every seat.

I make mistakes, often the same ones, over and over again...

Adaptability isn't the same as accessibility.  

Being adaptive can't remove all barriers.  Some needs are nonnegotiable.  

We might require elevators, ramps, wider doorways, shower seats, assistive devices, screen readers, closed captions, caregivers, or other accommodations.

But travel goes beyond the physical. 

 

It's a mindset too.

One we can adopt wherever we are!

Here's a secret:  For a budding travel writer, I don't actually travel much.

But seeing myself as a traveler changes the way I experience home too.  

On a morning walk, I pick up patterns on buildings, catch crumbs of conversation, and marvel at the myriad of winter coats worn by dogs.  

I take advantage of opportunities:  sign up for classes, taste new foods, read books, watch movies, and reach out to faraway friends.

Being an adaptive traveler isn't just about where you go, it's about how.  It empowers us to explore, even in our own neighborhood!

My travel-buddy Mona is not just adaptive.  She's wise too. 

Before we embarked on that trip together, she said something that's always stuck with me.  I'll paraphrase it here:

There's no scenerio where I'll be able to travel without my disability.  So if I want to go, I'll have to travel with it.

Merci Mona! 
Tu es très sage!

We shape our experiences.  And our experiences shape us.

That's the why of Adaptive Travel.

Walk on,

Rebecca

P.S.  If you or your group wants to talk more about Adaptive Travel, please reach out.  I'd love to be part of the conversation!  

Travel through Books: Read Around the World 2024!

Yes, I know it's 2025, but it just occurred to me that maybe -- in these cold days of January -- the best way to travel is to park myself safely on the couch under a fleece blanket!

Maybe you feel the same way??

Seems like the perfect time to bring out a reading list I compiled for our Adaptive Travel Summit last September. 

Fiction.  Nonfiction.  Memoir.  Travel guides.  Photography.  

They're just a sprinkling of all the great books out there, but they represent some of my favorite "places to go" through the years!

So grab a blanket.  

Pour some tea.  

Prepare for take-off...

REBECCA'S RECS:  
READ AROUND THE WORLD 2024!

Travel and disability: Easy Beauty by Chloé Cooper Jones

Train travel: Around the World in 80 Trains by Monisha Rajesh  (Loved the audiobook!)

Travel meditations & wanderlust: The Vagabond’s Way by Rolf Potts

Outdoor adventure & photography: Stories Behind the Images by Corey Rich

Go local: A Guide to the Great Gardens of the Philadelphia Region by Adam Levine

France and food: Chocolat by Joanne Harris  (It’s also a movie!)

Denmark, winter, and happiness: The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking

Spain (by an 80’s star turned travel writer!): Walking with Sam by Andrew McCarthy 

Nigeria and humor: My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

Japan and time travel: Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi  (It's the first in a series!)  

India, Australia, and search for family: A Long Way Home by Saroo Brierley  (It’s also a movie called Lion!) 

Where possible, I've linked to Bookshop.org which supports independent booksellers, but most of these are available everywhere, including the public library.  Several make fantastic audiobooks too!

My favorite reading mug from
Bear Pond Books in Montpelier, VT:
"Go Away. I'm Reading."

Do you travel through books?  

What are you reading -- or listening to -- these days?

Got recommendations?  Leave a comment!

I'm working on 2025's list -- and always looking for the next book to carry me away!

Read on,
Rebecca

Mile Marker 13,270

OPEN

It's 2025.

When I open my eyes in the morning, this is what I see.

It's just a photo, framed on my bedroom wall, but I've planned it this way.  It's purposefully placed, a kind of "photo-therapy."

This one image is everything I need to get out of bed:

Morning light.
Street sounds.

A gentle breeze.

Hope, piled high, for the day ahead.

It's the view from my Paris Airbnb, which I admit was a nice place to be first thing in the morning.  

I can still feel that duvet on the toes of my bare foot, smell the owner's leather jacket hanging in the closet, hear the bell ting on the city bus below.

But there's more.

This photo captures a moment I always savor -- even at home -- that delicate space between asleep and awake.  

In this moment, I haven't yet put my leg on,

or seen my crutches stacked up,
or tried to digest food, 
or juggled "too big" ideas,
or tackled the "to-do" list on which I'm already behind.

I'm not yet zapped of energy -- or frustrated by discomfort -- as I trek the distance others go without much effort at all.  

In this one moment, there is just me and that open window.  My body is not fractured, and the day is still whole, pointed with possibility like sun through a magnifying glass.

It's all the motivation I need.

On New Year's Eve in Scotland, at the stroke of midnight, people open the doors of their homes -- front and back -- to let the old year escape and the new year rush in.

My friend Jen will tell you we did it this year.

"Quick!  Go!" 

In my small apartment, she rushes to open the "front" hallway door while I yank open the "back" door to the balcony.

It's raining outside.  The air blows cold with moisture, car horns, and the boom of fireworks we hear but can't see.

(By time I remember this tradition, it's 12:15 AM, but we get it done!)

The new year is OPEN for business, and I open my whole self to it.

Open door.

Open window.
Open mind.

Open to ideas and experiences, no matter how small.

Open intestines (DIGEST!) and lungs (BREATHE!).
Open eyes -- and senses.

Open book(s) -- and inkflow.

Not every day will feel this way, I know.  Some days, I won't be able to leave the apartment because of leg issues or abdominal pain.

Other days, I'll carve a slow path around the block.  

On the best days, I'll explore locally.  Or, if I'm lucky, farther.

Wherever I go, I'll write.  

I've got other projects too.  Ideas are plentiful this time of year.  The journey may change shape along the way, but isn't that what adaptive travel is all about?

I'm "open" to it.   (Want to come?)

Get up.  Get dressed. 

Let's see what's beyond that window.

Happy and healthy new year!
Rebecca

Mile Marker 13,255