Musing #4

Staying in a hotel, EcoHotel, outside of the main center of Rome, in a typical neighborhood – busy, loud, a little dirty – in a typical city. I like the city center, but when relaxing, waiting to feel inspired, I find that I prefer (and am currently missing) being in the country. I am currently plugged into my ipod, listening to Ray LaMontagne tell me he could “hold me in his arms forever” – a loud motorbike momentarily drowning out his serenade. The busyness of the city, the rapid movement of business, cars, and life creates a busyness in my head. I am once again worrying about my responsibilities back home: financial shortcomings and what to do about my car…

Of course, as Damien Rice now takes over for Ray and begins his lament about "floating like a cannonball”, I am able to get lost in his melancholy and feel that I will also get lost in the history and surreal beauty that is Rome. I am sure an inspiration separate from Florence will by my muse for a season. Perhaps I’ll think back to Rome and feel the need to create or improve my mind- expand my philosophical and historical knowledge, as I currently fall short.

It may sound weird, but this is a shortcoming that I embrace. How awful it would be to find that I felt I had nothing left to learn or experience, no area in which I am challenged enough to grow. And right now, I need to learn to find inspiration in the middle of a typical neighborhood, in a typical city.

Musing #3

The Sistine Chapel and School of Athens: images I have seen in print, but to stand beneath the originals, the actual masterpieces, is breathtaking. To describe the feeling would fall short - it makes me think of the apostles' inability to describe Heaven with human words. It gives me this incredible sense of expectation: if I am having trouble describing something created by man, how much more incredible Heaven will be. How much beauty and (for lack of a better word) magic must Heaven hold? Heaven, an ineffable creation. Then, to think of the Creator - how beyond imagination, let alone words.

Musings on...Convenience

In Venezia (Venice), on a water bus, we met a misplaced valley girl who recently married an Italian man. Through conversation, she brought up the idea of getting used to the pace of life and the few things that she still finds irritating (even after two years). One of the things was the lack of convenience of store hours – early closing hours and the fact most (in some towns, all) of the stores closed completely on Sundays.

I am mulling this over on a Sunday as we are relaxing at the hotel, partly because we need to and partly because nothing is open – no stores, no museums, not even the laundry mat. We had to make sure we went to the grocery store yesterday (before eight o’clock) so that we would have food to eat today. We were forced to have at “home” family meals, and it was wonderful. It was just a couple meals, but they had purpose.


The picture is of our family meal by chef Josh.

I have heard it said that while the rest of the world works to live, Americans tend to live to work; this seems to be a sad reality. Could the stores make more money if they were open 24 hours, 7 days a week? No doubt there would be early morning Sunday proprietors who would attract early morning patrons and would earn a few more Euros each week. They could increase their profits, but it would come at a very steep price: purpose.

Purpose would have to be sacrificed. I know that I rarely plan ahead because I can jot to the store at almost any hour, seven days a week. If I am actually cooking at home, and I find I am missing an ingredient, no worries, VON’S is just around the corner, ready to sell me what I lack. This type of instant gratification has led to instant entitlement – and how this has seeped into all the nooks and crannies of life.

I wonder, could I start a one woman revolution? Help bring back the simpler ways of living – leave a little convenience behind for a truly better way of life?

I have already made baby steps – painting and reading more instead of owning a cable box – but I need to go beyond this beginning superficiality and make this slower pace a part of who I am. Become deliberate, purposeful in things as simply as dinner and as grand as relationships with friends, family, coworkers, students.

Musing #1

There is a symphony for all the senses: the vibrancy of the blue skies against the lush landscape, the breeze that carries with it the slight fragrance stemming from the lavender bushes, that same breeze swooshing through the trees, rustling the leaves in waves to perfectly complement the choir of birds. Had I been given the opportunity to create such a place, my imagination would have fallen short of this reality.

Reflections outside of Florence

Anyone who sees this place would love our hotel – really it’s a small house – kitchenette and all. The grounds are stunning and so peaceful; I love the constant sounds of birds and insects going about their business – it’s given me a renewed sense of appreciation for the quiet, peaceful ease of the country: a breathing pastoral.

I think I am going to show my students pictures of the lake when we review Emerson and Thoreau. This must be the type of setting that encouraged these great thinkers’ attempts at putting the beauty of nature in verse. Their desire to step back from the bustling world and absorb all that God has created– truly, “transcendental” is an apt description. This place, this feeling, truly transcends anticipation, defies accurate explanation – I am encouraged not to try to explain or capture (though I obviously am), instead I feel encouraged to simply be.

I am enjoying letting my thoughts wonder, not over-analyzing anything, simply drifting from one idea to another, from appreciation of my surroundings to meditating on a few lines of poetry from “George Grey”: “Put meaning in one’s life and it may end in madness, but life without meaning is the torture of restlessness and vague desire.”



To think, I could have missed all this if I had let the idea of bills and financial responsibilities get in the way of this adventure: meaning is found in experience, not a savings account. To have bypassed this experience, this life adventure, would have been the truly regrettable, even irresponsible thing to do. How often the idea of checking off boxes on my “to do” lists outweigh the desire to sit, reflect, and enjoy the beauty that surrounds me, waiting to inspire those that will let it. How often I have blurred the distinction between productivity and true accomplishment.

I heart Monterosso!

The Cinque Terre is magic! L'amore! The old streets, crammed houses, laundry lines outside windows and across streets - straight out of a story this town, Monterosso, breathes. The street cafes, gelato shops (oh the gelato shops), all are even more alive during the World Cup - especially last night while Italy played Ghana. And even though Italy (sadly) lost 2-3, the interest in the cup has not wavered in the least. Kids were running through town, soccer ball passing between each yelling boy, nearly missing the man who gave a disapproving look, a look that didn't faze a single boy.

This town has an energy that fascinates and invites me. Perhaps part of this feeling comes from its remote location that can be reached by a long, narrow, windy road, by train, or boat. I am so use to the openness of Southern California beach cities like Huntington that can be seen from the very wide and busy PCH. Getting from one Cinque Terre city to another is almost the same, except for the trail that can be walked from the first to the last with pit stops at each along the way.

We ended up hiking to three other Terre cities, a hike that was not to be rushed. It was too beautiful and too difficult to do so. Walkways and steep stone stairs led us from Monterosso to Vernazza (my favorite stretch of the hike). The trail contained great views that defy description or picture (though I took plenty) - flowers and lush greens, occasional peeks to the city we left and the deep blue ocean, finally opening up just enough to see Vernazza tucked away in a cove filled with boats and sun bathers. For something so inspiring, I am at a loss for words...

Vernazza is said to be the prettiest of the five cities, but, lovely though it is, my favorite is Monterosso - the eclectic houses with painted details and old town charm simply won my heart. And the people we came across in Monterosso were no small part of the town's beauty.

Our waiter that night, a perfect example of the spirit of Monterosso, was so warm - he proudly told us about the Basil leaves that are grown two hills over that are essential to "the best pesto in Italy. In the world". Apparently these basil plants have "smaller leaves but they are smelly." I have to say, coupled with spinach ravioli, it was indeed wonderful pesto, this pesto made with tradition and pride, so reflective of this small Italian town.

Amidst the hustling tourists and taxis tearing through the city, the slower pace of many of the locals becomes a welcome contrast. Settings are placed on tables, patios are swept of last night's dinner, dogs are walked: things are done, not hurried. A lesson I hope to take home with me - especially when I have guests. I realize how contagious an attitude can be, either relaxed or stressed. I am, therefore, determined to have an attitude that allows those around me to feel relaxed and free to leave anxieties behind.

Palpable Existence

Whilst skimming through AOL headlines (yes, I still use AOL, thank you), I came across an article to "finally get rid of all those old photos lying around". It was more of an advertisement really, but AOL likes to make those look like legitimate articles to fool us dumb folk. With a new, state of the art scanner you too can get rid of all those tangible memories you have stored around the house and condense years (perhaps even decades) into a file on your hard drive. Of course, once you get it there you'll realize that it takes up too much space and you will then be motivated, perhaps by another "article", to save that file to an external hard drive or flash drive.

This idea of being bothered by the physicality of life is beginning to weigh on me (ironically, it's a metaphoric weight, not a palpable one). The question that keeps coming to mind is: what is so wrong with concrete, tactile life? What is this insatiable need to digitize all aspects of life from memories to music to friendships? We click to view Grandma's 90th birthday like we click to view the latest status update. I am not anti-technology (obviously because I am typing my thoughts to post online), but I am opposed to technology as type of prison. I am opposed to my entire life being on laptop. I am opposed to managing friendships like I manage my banking. I am opposed to virtual tours replacing actual experiences.

I like rummaging through my old photo albums. Shoe boxes full of friends and family smiling and laughing and posing and living: this I love. I love the fact that these things take up space in my closet, on my bookshelves, and on my walls. I love the fact that these sentimentalities and memories have a physical demand of space, a reminder that I need to make emotional space in my life for the things that are truly important.

We have multiple senses, shouldn't we enlist as many as possible to enjoy the precious, irreplaceable things in life? Am I the only one that longs for stacks of photos, CD's, books (don't even get me started on electronic books), and handwritten cards?