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.

Art and Yoga in Florence, Italy

What attracts me most to the sculpture Costellazione (constellation) in front of Palazzo Pitti is the apparent yoga asana (pose, posture) she is in, Tarasana (star pose).  Tarasana is a grounding pose, allowing us to internalize our awareness.  

Whether accidental or intentional by the artist, the similarity to the asana, the name of the sculpture, the diamond/star shapes in her body paint, I do not know. Actually, I do not believe in accidents nor coincidences. Everything happens for a reason, and, no matter our perception, it happens for our own good.  

The Roman-born artist Rabarama, also known as Paola Epifani, currently has several sculptures on display throughout Florence, Italy. 

Nostalgia / Homesick

After five days' travel in the nearby regions of Le Marche and Umbria and a week-long absence from Mabel, my dog, who enjoyed her own holiday with an Italian family, we are again reunited.  Mabel stays close to me and tells me when she wants to be petted and just how and where to carezzarla (to pet her).  She is by nature a non-demanding little girl, but today she has no qualms asking for exactly what she wants and needs.  I love her style.

Crossing the central Apennino mountains

Meanwhile, it has been my desire to see every square inch, or centimeter, of Italy since I first fell in love with this amazing place.  However, this trip, I observed something out of character.

Fermignano (Le Marche)

Urbino (Le Marche)

Urbino (Le Marche)

I was homesick.

Abundance of sweet, fresh cherries

Castello della Pieve (Le Marche)

I have no memory of ever being homesick.  I have traveled on my own, without my folks, since I was a fairly small child, and I do not ever remember looking forward to going back home.  I always found it interesting when people say what a great trip they had, "but there is no place like home.  Home Sweet Home."    Only one time a few years ago do I remember being excited to return to Los Angeles, and that was because I was dating someone I was pretty crazy about and could not wait to see him again.

Urbino (Le Marche), Italy

Mercatale sul Metauro (Le Marche)

Sant'Angelo in Vado (Le Marche)

Only five days away from home this time, yet every day I longed for my home.  I missed my people; Mabel; my daily rituals and routines (never thought I would say that); my bed, a matrimoniale (two twin beds zipped together and not long enough for my altezza (height) but I missed it nonetheless); my yoga mat and hoop; certain routes I take; certain people I see daily; a certain someone who gives me a juicy kiss.

Gubbio (Umbria) (above 2 fotos)

I could not help but wonder:  What is wrong with me?  What happened to my sense of adventure and my love for exploration?  Maybe it had to do with the space I was in. This was a first for me.

Amicizia (friendship)

 Lifelong friends and local men of  Mercatale sul Metauro (Le Marche)

Old bridge and house at Mercatale sul Metauro

Without needing to figure it all out, what I observed this past week confirms for me that home is where the heart is, and Florence, Italy, is my home.  

Growing old together

Gubbio (Umbria)

I am home!

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!"