Embracing Uncertainty

Life is full of uncertainty.  The quality of one's life is directly proportionate to the amount of uncertainty one can live with. And yet, for me, uncertainty acts to bring up all the usual fears. Fear of the unknown causes me to waste valuable energy and over time puts a negative spin on my perceptions and life.  I know many people who correctly embrace uncertainty with excitement and take it on as a challenge.  My natural tendency is to focus on what I lack -- that special man, hair that cooperates the way I believe it should, a perfectly sculpted body (according to my ideal); blah, blah, blah -- instead of all that I do have right now.  I strive to change my perceptions to positive from negative.  I'm just saying...

My fears of all the uncertainties keep me stuck.  I might live a more secure, safer life, but how about its quality and richness?

I had planned my move to Italy for 4 or 5 years.  I did all the legwork -- tons of research, extra jobs to reduce debt, hours and hours of dreaming what my life would be like in Italy.  After a few years I had done the research and was debt-free, but I had excuses as to why that moment was not the right time to make the move.  Then one day after a series of incidents, I had a moment of clarity.  I would turn 50 the following year, and I got scared.  But this time I was scared into action.  I did not want to get to the end of my life and wonder what if.  What if I had moved to Italy?  What would it have been like?  How would my life have been different?  What if I went to Italy and changed my mind? What if I decided I prefer Italy as a vacation destination instead of a place to call home? What if I allowed my fears to keep me stuck in a place I didn't want to be? What if I lacked the courage to make the move?

In that moment of clarity, I realized that I did not want to be on my deathbed and look back with regret for not having followed my heart, my dream to live in Italy. Wherever you go, there you are.  So here I am two and a half years later.  Each new day brings with it new experiences. I still marvel over the beauty that surrounds me:  the art, the food, the culture, the people, the pazza ("crazy" -- I am being polite using the word for crazy) language.  Yet life in Florence, Italy, is far from perfect. Some of my experiences are not how I imagined they would be. There are many life lessons still to be learned. My work in Italy is not yet finished; therefore, I intend to stay.

Letting go of some control, I packed my bags and moved to Italy.  I had so many questions unanswered.  (Not the way I used to do anything.  I had to have everything figured out first.) I moved here with faith that, in time, everything would fall into place, doors would open, I would survive.  That faith in my future redeemed my decision many times over.  Of course, money remains scarce.  I wonder whether I will have the means to survive this month, or next month, but somehow I do. And then I go through that fear all over again the following month.  (Hmm, I wonder when I will  learn that lesson.)

My progress and growth are slow.  Sometimes so slow that I do not recognize my forward movement, that things do come together, doors do open, life here does work out.

I began to teach yoga classes two months ago.  Yoga is important to me and has been an integral part of my life for several years.  The teaching, though,  is new to me, and I am aware I have much to learn.  But this opportunity to share something about which I am passionate excites me. Even more than that is the precious gift of students who like my teaching style ... and return for the next class. Together we laugh, we sweat, we stretch, we build strength, we do partner poses, we open our hearts, we Om, we unite.  Two Sanskrit words come to mind when I reflect on the hour or so I teach: sangha ("community") and samadhi ("complete absorption, bliss"). I get lost in my teaching.  By "lost" I mean I get in a zone where my head shuts off, mostly, and I teach from my heart. I realize later when I reflect back that I have lost sense of time, I am completely absorbed and enraptured in something I love. During that brief hour or so, my world is perfect.  I have no problems.  I am completely full, fulfilled.  I am love.  I realize that what I experience is a state of WHOLENESS, a form of meditation, bliss.  Fully charged, not lacking a thing.

What surprises me is that had I not embraced the uncertainty and my fears -- leave the USA, come to Italy, settle in Florence, and reach out to everyone, friends and strangers alike -- this opportunity to find myself, to be happy never would be mine. So perhaps peace and serenity can be found in not controlling every last detail, instead letting go and embracing uncertainty.

Leaving Italy

Which verb tense do you use when you are suspended in time?  I think in "Leaving Italy" time, but that was 3 1/2 days ago.  On the plane I caught a cold, which leaves me listless and fuori la testa (outside the head).  It feels as though time stands still, but I know better.  Time does not wait for me to catch up.  So even now, I am in the past tense, or so it seems.

Boarding the flight

Here I am back in Los Angeles, an unexpected, unplanned, but necessary trip.

The wonderful 101 Freeway

I try to come to terms with who I am today.  In my adult life I have been a responsible, productive, type-A personality, a small business owner who works hard.  I had control and strove to make a name for myself in my career, which I accomplished successfully.

Nearly two and a half years ago, I had an injury to my back that changed my life.  No longer was I able to work the way I used to. In addition to my injury, there was the economic crisis.  My career changed drastically as a result of the two.  It was then that I decided the time was right to make real my dream to live in Italy.  With my personality type, comes the gotta-have-it-all-figured-out-in-advance mentality.  I went against my usual grain in late '09 when I packed up and relocated to Italy.  I didn't have all the answers.  What I did have was an unwavering faith that, come what may, I would be okay, everything would work itself out, and with a little time, improved Italian language skills, and more contacts, doors would open wide and opportunities would present themselves.  I still have the faith, though, quite honestly, not always unwavering.

Being an expat has its own set of challenges to overcome.  It is no easy path.  In fact, only a small percentage of people who relocate make it beyond the first year.  Studies indicate that something like 5% of the expat population last five years in their new home land and actually assimilate, which means they learn to speak the native language and live like a local instead of in the safe confines of an expat community.

I have made it beyond the first year, and it is important now to assimilate and speak the language and live like a local, if I want to stay beyond the typical five years or fewer.  I try to assimilate and plan to last far more than five years, but...

We often hear of la dolce vita (the sweet life).  La dolce vita, though, is a bit of a myth.  It is not to say that some don't experience it, but for the most part, it is not a reality for the average Italian nor the average expat.  In fact, la dolce vita is more typically for the well-to-do pensioners who can afford extended vacations.  Especially in today's economic climate, when the dollar is $1.42 to the euro, it is a struggle for most expats, especially American expats, to make ends meet. 

I find that I, a once driven, type-A gal, now lack motivation.  I care less about the things that used to matter. Now I struggle with questions such as:  Did I do the right thing?  Have I thrown away my life and the things I worked so hard to achieve?  Will I ever be able to overcome the obstacles and challenges I face in Italy?  Do I dig my own grave just so I can live in Italy? Am I truly an expat, or am I becoming a nomad? (That is, no fixed home, caught in a purgatory of not completely assimilating in Italy and keeping a grubstake in the U.S.)?

During this unplanned visit in Los Angeles, one task is to close up my existing office.  I had previously downsized and effectively closed shop. But I left a physical presence "just in case."  I get emotional comfort in having my desk set up that has my personality all over it.  My desk is glass, which I turned into a vision board. It is one thing to pack up boxes of books and file folders.  But what do I do with the mementos that surround my desk?  They say much about who I am and what I worked for. How do I box up or file away those miscellaneous pieces of paper and trinkets?  I have an Italian phrase sandwiched between the two pieces of glass of my desk that says, "Mi piacerebbe lavorare e vivere a Firenze," (I would like to work and live in Florence). Now done; check. But can I stay?

Also, while in Los Angeles, I will finally free myself of my car and some other personal belongings.  This is all rather scary to me.  The more belongings I slough off in America, the less I straddle the two countries and the more permanent I make myself in Italy.  That spells F-E-A-R in capital letters. Yes, I do want this. But it is not that simple.  (I cannot be entirely forthcoming on this public blog.)  So the questions keep coming at me like tsunami waves.

The car gets towed for maintenance

I struggle with living in the moment, enjoying what I have today, for fear of what could happen tomorrow, next week, next year.  I know it is against the principles we are taught, but I also believe it would be irresponsible of me not to give thought to those very real issues that could happen to any of us, but especially to me, as I straddle two homes, two cultures.  It is not that I want to manifest these negative situations into happening, but I also know it would be denial on my part to ignore their possible reality.  Heavy thoughts weigh on my mind.  The questions I ask myself cause discomfort. I am determined to live a simpler and more basic life in Italy. Some days I do.

I love the home I have made, and make, for myself in Italy.  I strive to create my own form of la dolce vita, and I succeed (to a greater or lesser extent).  I will not give this up, no matter the difficulties that face me or my own thoughts that sometimes punish me. These past few days in Los Angeles tell me that Florence is my home, my destiny.  That said, I also recognize that, when I return to Florence, I must spend more time indoors working. But when I choose to go outside, life awaits.  I live in a place full of history, and I do not take it for granted.  I try to be mindful of the beauty that surrounds me and to notice something new each day and definitely not to allow it to become ordinary.

An extraordinary life in an extraordinary home.  That is the theme of this blog and also my mission in life ... one step at a time.

--Josslyn, Los Angeles, California, USA

La Festa delle Donne / Women's Day

Since my fascination for Italy began, I have heard about a day in Italy when women are celebrated.  I have been told the men give flowers to the women in their lives -- not only their wives, mothers, daughters, and lovers but also to their bankers, bariste (barmaids), bosses, shopkeepers, and even to women passing on the street in appreciation for all we represent, sometimes even laying a mimosa branch at her feet.  

My thought was Wow!  Italian men are known for their passion for women, and I couldn't wait to experience such an expression of exuberance.  

The day is March 8, just passed. I did receive a number of buona festa greetings and kisses.  No mimosa (sold at 8 Euro a branch) laid at my feet nor in my hand.  

The day of celebration actually began in America back in 1908 when some textile workers protested against their unfair treatment and went on strike.  The bosses locked the gates and trapped the women in the building.  A few days later, the building was lit on fire, and 129 workers died.  As women began demanding rights, politically and socially, the day caught on globally and has been known as International Women's Day.

Over the years much of the historical flavor has been forgotten, and though the day is still celebrated in much of the world, there is the tendency for it to be more commercial, like a Valentine's Day for women.

In Florence, the state museums offered free entrance to women.  A friend and I toured the Medici Chapel. At the canoe club, women-only teams were on the Arno in a dragon canoe.

Three male friends of varying ages told me this is the day to celebrate women, but that tonight all the men stay home with the telecomando (remote control) in hand while the women are out at the pizzeria with their women friends.

Thank you to the women before me that fought, suffered, and died fighting for fairness, equality, and women's rights, paving the way for a much better life for all of us women today.

Buona Domenica / Good Sunday

Good Sunday is a greeting said to one another in Italy.  Often it is said at the end of a workweek to someone you will unlikely see again until after the weekend has passed.  Sunday is the only day of the week addressed in this manner.  

Buona domenica.  (Days of the week and months in Italian are lower case.)  Today, this particular Sunday, is perfect in my little world, a day overflowing with simple pleasures and gratitude.  A light rain began late last night and has yet to cease.  I am not complaining because I love the rain, and I know before long the heat and humidity will arrive and most likely, too, my lamenting at how I feel like a wilted flower.

Mabel, freshly bathed and with fur fluffier and softer than silk or satin, and I went out this morning for a long walk along the Lungarno. We visited with some of our usual morning contacts.  Later I had a few conversations about our plans for the upcoming week.  I enjoyed a gentle restorative yoga practice. A bit of homework as well as a bit of work for pay were done in the morning hours.  My home is clean and orderly.

Like every other day, I have my list of "Things To Do."  I have more work to do, but it is a manageable amount.  Many days I am easily distracted and boondoggle the day away in spite of my intentions. And when a day like today comes along where everything is perfectly aligned and I can do whatever I choose without obligations and deadlines looming over my head, often I am too tired, the choices too many, and I become paralyzed, in a sense, as to what is it I really want to do with this "free day" because it is only one day, and there are so many things I could do ... and what happens?  I end up doing something unplanned, not even desirable, and fritter away the time.  In Los Angeles, I cried for days like today.  My life was stressful in corporate America.  Even in Italy it can be a struggle to have a day like today.

Not today!  I am enjoying a well-balanced, quiet, soul-nurturing day in my home.  Sweet Mabel is nearby.  She keeps her eyes on me at all times.  She makes no demands; she just lets me know she needs and loves me. Loving her is the easiest thing in the world.  I feel comfy and cozy inside and out. Comfortable clothes wrap my body. Recently, I have experienced some small mental/emotional/perhaps even spiritual shifts and feel great.  Various things need my attention, but there are no major projects that need to be accomplished today. I took a break from my work to come downstairs and read about women that are creative and the space in which they create. Inspirational, instrumental music plays in the background. Periodically, I look up from what I am doing, make eye contact with Mabel, and watch the rain.  

Creating a great day, for me, begins with adequate and restful sleep.  Since I was a child, I found it difficult to end my days, and the morning is my favorite time of day.  Needless to say, I rarely get enough sleep.  Last night I had a solid six and a half hours of sleep and woke up feeling like a new person.

Today I am enjoying each and every minute, consciously making the choice of what I want to be doing, free of guilt and anxiety.  I feel love and loved and completely at peace and at ease in my own skin. There is no where else I would rather be and no one else I would rather be with in this moment.  Today is perfect just the way it is.

My personal experience of this particular Sunday may not sound like much to get excited about, and it may even sound as if I am having a lazy day.  But for me, this is what life is about, the simple pleasures, gratitude, love, self-acceptance, conscious choices. Instead of "doing," today is about just simply "being."

To you, I bid a "Buona domenica!"

Dear Reader

We're coming up on a year since the birth of my blog. Still, the blog percolates; not entirely certain the direction I want to go, although some things I am certain about. One is that I want to write frequently and consistently. In looking at many blogs recently, a common trend I have noticed is the blogger apologizing for being away from posting for a length of time. Oh, please don't let me do that. I do not want to blog out of obligation to you, my reader. First and foremost, I write for myself, and second, you. This is tricky because my ego gets in the way. So I will tell you that I strive to post more frequently. So please do keep coming back; follow the blog; share the blog.

In fact, let me reveal a little secret desire. I'd love to see 2,001 hits on my blog by November 7, the anniversary. That's a high expectation, but it is possible. In fact, I can see it. A week from now I am looking at ClustrMaps on my blog, and I see the 2,001 total visits from various parts of the world since I started blogging last year. And you can help make that happen. Of course, it isn't about quantity, but it is a mini Bhavana of mine.

And comment, please!  Again, I write for myself foremost. But once again, the ego...  I love hearing from you, what moves you, what you like reading, what you don't, or to know whether anyone out there even reads my words.  So indulge me with a little ego-stroking now and then, but please keep it genuine.  Don't say it if you don't mean it.

My intention since inception has been to write honestly.  I want to get to know myself better through my writing and to take risks -- while allowing you to know me too.  On the Internet, that's an extremely vulnerable position because the Internet is infinite.  And this especially challenges the ego, my ego.  Like most of us, I have wasted energy and time worrying about what others think, their judgments of me.  Of course, I care and want to be liked -- or better yet, loved -- but in writing honestly, that means I want to write uncensored without fear of what you may think of me, whom I might offend, or what will come back to haunt me (good thing I have no plans of going into politics). Because few people have bothered to really know me, if I died tomorrow, perhaps someone would understand me. Perhaps you even relate to me.  

Some posts have been superficial and light, others educational and/or experiential, and some others more self-revealing.  I want to share with you my experiences of the place I love, Italy, and my personal evolution in leaving my corporate-American lifestyle to learning how to live a life truer to my heart, spending quality time with people I care about, eating food that's more natural and closer to the source and full of prana, feeling the wind on my face, my feet on the ground instead of driving in my bubble leaving my pod to go to a larger pod and having little human contact on a daily basis.  That's how I lived in Los Angeles; that's why I left Los Angeles.  That kind of writing isn't always positive and upbeat.  Many times it's about disappointment, disillusion, and sadness.  Or maybe it's the sadness and grief from long ago that I have yet to resolve; so it keeps reappearing as pedestrians in front of my car. Or the insecurities -- when I have a muffin top, I believe I'm no longer lovable -- and the addictions I battle, and the chatter that goes on inside my head that tells me I'm different from the rest of you, and I believe it!  So I still have a long way to go on my personal journey.

I consider a second blog, one in which I can cut loose and let that stuff out and maybe not confuse and scare you, my readers, and find men in white coats at my apartment door with a straitjacket for me to wear.  However, as a sole-practitioner, I never liked the idea of having two or more checking accounts -- one for personal, and one for business -- because to me, it's all one pocket.  It's all me, and it comes from the same source.  And that's how I feel about having another blog.  I'd like to keep it all one.  

Also, I'm moving away from signing my name at the end of each blog posting.  I'll use it when I blog from or about another location.  Otherwise, it feels redundant.

Eccomi (Here I am), still a very simple girl moving in the direction of living a simpler, less-complicated and more genuine life in Florence, Italy, one day at a time.

In Pace / In Peace