Humanities 101 (Notes from a Recent Trip to Los Angeles)

More than two months ago, on 2 February, I left Florence in a hurry ... and arrived to Los Angeles with a sad and heavy heart under a cloud of unpleasant circumstances.  This trip home was not planned, but sudden.

The generosity of my friends and family overwhelmed me then, and now, when I look back, still overwhelms me. Each and every one of you played a part in my feeling loved and cared for at a time when that was precisely what I needed. Many of you went out of your way to be available for me in one form or another. Words alone cannot adequately describe my gratitude for your kindnesses. Nonetheless...

In a short month's time, I had the opportunity to see so many old friends, and family, which helped restore my faith in humanity during a crucial personal crisis. During our too brief time together, we enjoyed plenty of laughs, tears, stories, love shared, love lost, bonding, re-bonding, meals, and even a bit of shopping.  (Needed that!)

A big THANK YOU to all of you.

With love from Florence, Italy

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.

Romeo and Juliet (Verona, Italy)

"O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?"

"I am Juliet. Are you Romeo?"

I am no Shakespeare scholar -- I was not even an English literature major -- but I do know that, thanks to William Shakespeare's adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, Verona is known as the city of love and romance.  I am told that Shakespeare never even visited Verona, and yet his imagination was so vivid that people flock from all over the world to the house of Juliet and her infamous balcony.  So, too, did my friend S and I.  

Juliet's balcony

We left Florence early in the morning on the Frecciargento (one of the fast trains) for Verona.  While on the train, we watched the recent movie Letters to Juliet to help set the appropriate mood.


Throughout Italy, lucchetti dell'amore (love lockets) can be found.  In Florence, for example, sweethearts in love write their names on their lockets, attach it to the gate, and throw the key over the shoulder into the Arno River as a symbol of their eternal love.  Be prepared to pay a hefty fine, though, if caught!  In Verona, feel welcome to leave your lockets of love, and even graffiti attesting to your love, at the house of Juliet.

Lockets of Love

Graffiti

I know where my Romeo is, and Verona he is not...

R&J cookie kisses

While S and I found neither love nor romance -- well, not this trip -- we discovered anew that Verona is lovely and romantic, a top destination in Italy's Veneto region:  fantastic food, friendly folks, plenty of historical monuments and museums to visit. And Verona is particularly special to me because it is the first place I visited on my very first trip to Italy.

-- Giosalina, Verona, Italia

    18 ottobre 2011 

My Dog, Mabel, Leaves for her Holiday in Campi Bisenzio, Florence, Italy

written by La Mamma Ansiosa

Today Mabel packed her suitcase -- a blue Ikea bag filled with her favorite things, food, and toiletries -- and has left to begin her week-long vacation with a family in Campi Bisenzio, a suburb of Florence, Italy. Her adopted Italian family for the week includes the two cutest 2 and 5 year olds, Niccolo and Sara, with gorgeous giant globes for eyes.  It is like summer language camp.  Mabel will have a week of immersion and return home with a much stronger understanding of the Italian language and culture.  (I want to go to summer camp too.) The little girl arrived with a couple of her stuffed animals to take Mabel to her house.  I do hope Sara will hold on tight to her toys because Mabel has a thing about hoarding other dogs' and children's toys.  She places them under her neck and all around her body, and when the dog or child wants one of their toys back, Mabel just looks at them very smuggly as if to say "haahaa, you can't have it" while the other wimpers and cries afraid to reclaim the toy.

Mabel sprawled out on two of her beds on a hot day

I hope Mabel and her host family will enjoy many adventures and lots of fun together.

Mabel was unaware that she is going on vacation and that I will not join her.  After the children were buckled into their car seats, Mabel climbed into the back of the SUV and settled in.  We closed the door after many kisses.  My heart broke as they all drove off.  Mabel looked at me, her eyes fixed on me, not understanding why I was left behind.  The look in her eyes was as though she thought that would be the last time she would ever see me.

I cried.  

But meanwhile, there is the mommy, La Mamma Ansiosa.  That would be me. I am in favor of Mabel going off and exploring new things, but she is still my baby.  

A giant sea separates attachment and detachment. Letting go is very painful for those of us who suffer from our attachments.  But in this case, I know we will soon see each other again in just under a week.  

Non vedo l'ora. I can't wait / I look forward to it.

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

A quotation I like

"In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities."
--Janos Arany, Hungarian poet