Jake & Bella: Lessons From My Dogs

Harrison Forbes is a professional dog trainer and author of the book, Heart of a Dog:What Challenging Dogs Have Taught Me About Love, Trust, and Second Chances. Consider this quote from his book, “Dogs do the types of things we should do more often, and the things they don’t get involved in – well, we should skip them too…”

It was never my intention to have one dog, let alone two; but, somehow Jake and Bella have made their way into my heart and life. As a result, I have identified seven lessons that they have taught me. Lessons we can all be reminded of from time to time.

1. Move On: Have you ever noticed that dogs don’t hold a grudge? My dog Jake can test my patience and push my buttons much like my daughter, Anna. He eats things that are unnatural to a canine diet, he is constantly under my feet, and destruction seems to be his middle name. Daily I am fussing at Jake – daily. I get cranky with him – daily. With most dogs, if you were cranky with them a minute ago, (even if it was their fault) they will still greet you in the next moment as if nothing negative ever transpired. So it should be with us as well. Forgiveness is a tall order, especially if someone has hurt us. Forgiveness doesn’t mean that you condone someone else’s behavior; it just means you are willing to let it go so as not to be trapped by their misbehavior. Remember: you know you have forgiven someone when their name passes over your lips without bitterness or the need to seek retribution.

2. All You Need Is Love: Our dogs simply love us for who we are. They don’t have a measurement chart of how we compare to others, our status in the world is unimportant, the car/house we own is inconsequential…it is simply unconditional. Bella and Jake show their love for me in the only way they can – kisses, cuddling with me, and following me around. They want my love in return. Bella will nuzzle me in an effort to get me to scratch her back. Jake will flop over on his back. That is my cue that a belly scratch is in order. In our own relationships with others, we should strive to focus more on the value someone brings to our lives – their love, friendship, and kindness. While dogs know how to give us love, they are also really good at receiving it as well. For many of us, we have difficulty allowing others to love us – keeping them at arm’s length. Don’t doubt your value. Let someone love you.

3. The Balance Between Work and Play: We know the importance of a balanced life. We must work but play is just as important. Our dogs like to keep things light and not too serious all the time. Playing with my dogs is a daily activity. We wrestle, play fetch, and run around the house in a modified chase game. Even when I am not in the mood to play, their energy and frisk invests is contagious. By the time we are finished, my mood is lighter. Working too much can lead to burnout; so…play. Play renews our spirit and helps us to connect with who we are.

4. Know Who You Are: My dogs know their names and will come running when called. You know your name too, of course; but, do you know who you are? Not your title, your job, but you. It is so vital that you have a true sense of yourself. This identity makes it easier to set boundaries, stand firmly in your beliefs, and not be easily swayed.

5. The Art of Communication: I have a friend who has effectively trained his dog to be a successful hunting dog. His commands are clear and simple. When they experience a break down in communication, my friend doesn’t give up and walk away. Instead, he reteaches and patiently works until his dog can obey the command once again. Communication is hard to maintain. So often our words can hurt. Instead of taking the time to repair the damage, we just walk away. On a similar note, we should always speak up when things don’t feel right or we are hurt. My dog Bella has a tender spot underneath a front leg. If Grace or Anna pick her up the wrong way, she will yelp in pain. Likewise, when Jake feels uneasy or hears an unfamiliar noise, he won’t hesitate to let me know with a loud bark. Are you willing to speak up when you are hurt or unsure? You should. Listen to your instincts; God gave them to you for a reason.

6. We All Need to be Acknowledged: When I get home each day, Jake runs around in a circle and will bark until I acknowledge his presence. Even Bella will follow me around until I stop and “ask” about her dog day. Just like my dogs, we all need to feel important to someone; greeted with enthusiasm; reassured that all who leave will return; and be asked how we are. We are social beings and need interaction with one another.

7. Fenced In Yards and Beyond: My dogs know the boundaries of our yard and while they may not understand why it is there, they know not to go beyond that fence without me. In another sense, they are always eager to get on a leash and go exploring. What about you? It is good to go beyond the scenery you are comfortable with and explore new places. There is so much to learn, see, and new people to meet. We grow as a person with each new experience. Go explore.

While I never intended to own two dogs, they have certainly taken ownership of my heart. I am forever grateful that they show me daily a better way to go through this life – live in the moment, love others authentically, make time for play, be true to yourself, talk it out, pet one another, and go exploring.
How then will you live, Reader? I hope you live well and like a dog.

Choosing Happiness

Have you really thought about happiness? I believe that happiness is a choice that we make – we choose it. This isn’t some “Polly Anna” way of living nor does it ignore the fact that life is tough, people will hurt you, and you don’t always get what you want. This way of living is the ability to look through those circumstances and be happy with all those blessings you do have. Let me pose a couple of questions to you. Dig deep, I mean to the core of your soul deep, and answer honestly.

1. If you could wave a magic wand and create the life of your dreams (don’t think in terms of winning the lottery here, imagine yourself happy) what would that look like?

2. (Most important question) What are you willing to do/give up in order to make that life possible?

That first question is one that I’m sure many of us could answer. The second question puts the teeth into that dream, doesn’t it?

I posed this question to a friend of mine lately as we discussed things she was struggling with in her own life. It is like she observed: we want those things, but most people don’t know how or are not willing to do what it takes to make it happen. We are waiting for our Fairy Godmother to come along.

Uh-huh. Not me. Life is too short for me to wait for my best life to begin…sometimes you have to make it happen. For the most part, I have reached a place of contentment and happiness in my life. It is by no means perfect; nor should anyone think that happiness equates itself to perfectionism. But, I’m happy with where I find myself on my life’s journey today. It wasn’t easy getting here and I wallowed in muck for years; but I always believed that my life could look and feel different. The test came in finding the courage to make it happen. Being happy at this station of my life doesn’t mean that my best life has been fully realized either. I have much more I wish to accomplish and create. That list resides in a special notebook that I keep. Along with that list an item analysis of what I will need to do in order to make those things happen. Some are feasible now; others will have to wait. The point is, I am constantly working toward my best life – that magic wand scenario I posed in question one. I know what many of you must be thinking: that all sounds great, but what if those things never come to pass, will you still be happy? Yes, I hope I will always choose to be happy in whatever station of life I find myself.

So….my happiness list.
1. I have a goal that in 10-12 years, I will live on the coast. My place won’t be very big, room for one and a guest from time to time. Come visit but don’t stay too long. Just kidding.
2. My children will be on their own path to their best life. I try not to have any preconceived notions about what that will look like for them. I want them to fulfill their life’s calling and find happiness in whatever they choose to do.
3. I have professional goals that will remain to myself. The field of education is my arena to make a positive impact and I have goals to do just that.
4. I have a personal goal as an author. This part of my best life is the one that looms over me. It will require an amount of time that I currently don’t have just yet.
5. Continue to travel and mark the following places off of my bucket list: Costa Rica, Roatan, Hondura; Machu Piccu; Mt. Kilimanjaro; Greece, Greek Isles and Turkey; and India.
6. There are certain things I want to learn or do: learn how to surf, learn how to snowboard, ski in the Andes Mountains and the Italian Alps, speak another language (probably Spanish) with more fluency than how to order food in a restaurant.

Nothing on my happiness list includes an enormous pot of money, fame, big house, etc. Instead, my list includes those things which will continue to allow me to grow in all facets of my being, help others realize their best life professionally, and set my little elves on their own path in life.
I realize that in making these things happen, I will ultimately make choices that will not fall in line with those around me. While I appreciate everyone’s opinion and input, this is MY life. I refuse to live someone else’s watered down version of it. This is a painful part of living your best life – knowing that other people will not always approve. When I decided to leave my marriage, the disapproval rating was overwhelming at times. I have chosen to love people that others disapproved of; so much so that I have lost my relationships with several family members and friends. I hated losing the approval and connection with those people; but I would have also regretted, far greater, in missing out on the opportunity to love. I mean – really, really love another human being. The opportunity to walk (albeit briefly) a portion of your life’s journey with someone who accepts and loves you for who you are and nothing more – well, that is priceless. Some love stories fill volumes of pages in your life. Others are short stories, but their impact can be life-changing and sustainable for a long, long time.
At the end of my life, I know I will give an account of every wrongdoing, bad choice, and hurt that my actions have inflicted on others. I have asked for forgiveness for those things. I believe Him when He said they are cast as far as the east is from the west. I also hope that on that day, God will smile favorably on me for the simple fact that He chose to give me life and I lived a life of abundance through Him. I want the scars, the lines on my face, the softness of my heart, my countenance to all be evidence of choosing happiness.
Have you lived this God-given life to its fullest? Have you honored Him by pushing beyond the norm and choosing happiness? I can think of no greater way to honor Him, than by living – really living.
Live well, Reader, and choose happiness.

My Autumn Plans

“When summer gathers up her robes of glory, And like a dream, glides away.” ~Sarah Helen Whitman

The first of September brings about a subtle change to the world around us and if we aren’t watching, will slip away from our view. The vibrancy of summer’s greens begin to gradually fade ever so slightly. The edgy color of summer begins to dull in preparation for autumn’s entrance. Summer slips away…

Autumn is my favorite season for many reasons. I love the colors, the smells, the cooler weather, the bulky sweaters, the holidays that bring families together, and the vague melancholy that seeps into my heart. I get nostalgic for my hometown, memories of my mom and her fabulous cooking, as well as time that has gone by. Time does go by and before we know it, autumn’s colors lay in a heap waiting the cold of winter. Where did it go?

I vow to live through autumn with purpose and a stark realization of the world around me. I say this every year and every year I get distracted. I thought that if I put this more purposeful attention to the changing season into a list of things to accomplish in the next couple of months, then I would be more successful at having lived through autumn and not merely skimmed its surface. Therefore, I have constructed a list of things I wish to do from now until Thanksgiving that will make my awareness of this fantastic season more prevalent.

I vow to….

…rake the leaves that fall from a big tree in the front of my yard into a huge pile at the bottom of an incline. Then my lil elves and I can run and jump head first into them over and over.

…make my home-made apple pie and pumpkin pie, even if I eat it all by myself. I love to bake and I get pleasure out of doing it for others. Perhaps I will pleasure my own taste buds with my baking.

…visit the Biltmore and winery. I have been to the Biltmore House in every season except fall and I have never been to the winery there.

…also eat an expensive meal on the Sunset Terrace at the Grove Park Inn and celebrate the accomplishments of this past summer: a new job and having the courage to make my dream come true and travel to Italy.

…take a slow stroll in the evening just as the last of the light is fading. I will wear one of my favorite chunky sweaters, scarf and vintage hat. I will seek out a path with lots of crunchy leaves and will pay close attention to the sound they make when my feet are under them.

…travel to my high school in Louisville and watch my alma mater play football again. I see my best friend, Jon in the stands with me as we bundle up and drink hot cocoa.

…go to a carnival or Fall Festival and eat a caramel apple sprinkled in nuts.

…kayak on the river and watch the sunlight play through the colors on the trees.

…bike the Virginia Creeper Trail.

…have an untraditional Thanksgiving at the beach. I want to rent a small cottage or even a room and eat turkey from a box while watching the waves crash on the shore.

…drink LOTS of apple cider.

….get my ski equipment checked and in top condition for the coming season.

…take lots of pictures of my children. They are growing up and away from me way too fast.

….have a disproportionate amount of mums, pumpkins and odd-shaped gourds at all entrances of my house.

…leave my bedroom window cracked so the cool of the night will force me deeper under the covers.

…put on my raincoat and walk through a soft rain. I like the pungent smell of dead leaves when it rains.

…take a drive through the mountains and really take in all the wonders of God’s color palette.

…go to my college Homecoming – finally, after 20 years. Twenty years? Good Lord.

…put out all of my whimsical Halloween decorations and walk through town with the Trick-or-Treaters in my own costume.

…use my fire pit to make gooey, squishy S’mores for me and my elves.

…live each day with the expectancy that something wonderful will catch my attention with new eyes.

Wow. My list is mighty lengthy, but I am hopeful that some of these can be accomplished on the same day or weekend. I will chart my course through this magnificent season of burning colors, whether with friends or alone. No longer will my course be determined by a guest to accompany me. While I enjoy my friends’ company, I also enjoy mine. So…..goodbye summer. I will now go and crane my neck toward the horizon and welcome my friend named, Autumn, as it arrives to sit and visit for such a short spell.

Live well.

Random Reflections on Italy

Having made Italy a bulleted item on my bucket list, I was determined to go no matter what – even if that meant going alone. About six weeks before my departure, Ruthie, a college friend called me up very early one morning while I was getting ready for work and asked if she could tag along with me. Of course! Traveling alone is a good thing to do from time to time and I was prepared to go it alone in Italy. I was fairly certain that I would be fine by myself, but it was nice to know that I would have someone to share this adventure with me. I like to share – hence, I write.

I feel confident that I will never be the same since we returned from Italy. First of all, there is nothing I can’t do now. I got on a plane and flew to another continent, knowing very, very little Italian, having no idea how to get around Rome and basically being cut off from my family and friends back home. Ok….I was wasn’t really cut off. The hotel had free wi-fi so I was able to communicate through social media and I did speak to my children a couple of times. I guess the thing that stands out to me is that the only obstacle standing between me and what I want to accomplish is – me. I don’t have to wait for the “right time” when someone else can go with me; besides, my passion may not be someone else’s.

Let’s take that thought one step further. Even when I got home, many people inquired about my trip, but there were few who really wanted to see pictures or hear the play-by-play details of what I saw. While disappointed at first, I realize that my passion of researching and exploring ancient ruins, relics and museum trips would make someone else wish to stick bamboo splinters in their eyes. Luckily for me, Ruthie is easy-going, had studied the same things I wished to see, and really had the patience of Job with me when I couldn’t pull myself away from the Botticelli exhibit in Florence. (sigh) Friends like that are one in a million. I dragged her through every church in Rome between our hotel and the Spanish Steps. After a while, most people would say that if you’ve seen one Roman Catholic Church, you’ve seen them all. Not me. I found a new treasure in each one.

The best part about having her there was that we could talk about things we saw, tasted, experienced and occasionally we talked about life back home. Sitting under a moon in Rome made back home issues seem pretty bearable. I have promised her that she may drag me to someplace on her bucket list and I will tolerate whatever we go through – no whining.

The people of Italy were sweet and so patient with me as I tried to honor them by speaking my broken Italian. It was horrendous, but I do believe the effort I made was greatly appreciated. More often than not, once we were found out as Americans, many Italians asked to practice their English with us. That was fun and it is so educational when you are trying to cross a language barrier with another person. You must think concisely and simply when trying to convey a message to someone who knows very little of your own language.

We also discovered that the Golden Thread of Humanity is very evident as long as you are willing to see things with a new perspective. That often means you must lay aside what you think you know or what you have experienced back home and try to see life through the eyes of those you are visiting. I don’t have to understand everything or even agree with it; but, I am a better person because my respect for others has grown tremendously. I can celebrate our similarities and learn from our differences.

Another thing I took away from this trip was the importance of trying things the locals suggest. My expertise with Italian food and wine was limited to the Olive Garden and cheap wine. Here, I quickly learned that traditional pasta is a side dish for most Italians. I ate an enormous amount of fish in Italy. I had sea bass, swordfish, salmon, tuna, more sea bass and fixed in ways I never dreamed about. The Italians were pleased to make recommendations to us and we were never disappointed. Mealtimes are a formal affair in that there is an order to the dishes and it is expected that every member of the family participates. Restaurants, like Ristorante 34, are filled with the locals, who showed us how important a meal is to the Italians. We witnessed boisterous laughing and people talking constantly. Mealtime is a social affair where people show their gratitude for what they have, including one another. There is no rush to get through a meal and clear the table. Ruthie and I learned to linger over our meals and we didn’t get up until the wine bottle was empty, our palates were tantalized and dessert had been consumed.

This was taken at Ristorante 34. Left to right – Ruthie, Lorenzo (our favorite waiter) and myself

While I wish I could say that I have carried that same spirit back to America, it has been eaten alive by schedules, homework and long hours at my office. However, I remember what Italy looks like, sounds like, feels like and tastes like; she is never far from me. I will return to her one day; she has many treasures left for me to find and open.

Salve Italy!!

Live well, Reader.

Italy – Day 5 Florence

When I first made plans to visit Italy, I intended to use Rome as my home base for the 1st half of my trip and Florence for the 2nd half. Cost, time, and airline schedules curtailed that original plan. So, I was left with only one day for this magnificent city. Because of its proximity to Rome, Ruthie and I decided to catch a ride up and back with a group of about 30 who were traveling by motorcoach. The plan was to arrive in Florence at mid-morning, visit our short list of “must sees” and return with the group back to Rome that evening. The best laid plans…

Our 7am departure was delayed for reasons that were unknown to any of us. The streets out of Rome were heavily trafficked that day and it became obvious that we would lose several hours in the city. Once that fact became clear, Ruthie and I pulled our books from our bags and formulated a plan. We were unwilling to compromise with what we had planned to see, so an alternative mode of transportation would have to take us back to Rome late that night.

Just before lunch we arrived in Florence. We bid farewell to our hostess and ran the shortest route possible to the city’s train station. Once there we purchased 2 one-way tickets back to Rome at the latest departure time possible on the Eurorail. With the rest of our day open, we set out exploring.

Florence is typically referred to as the birth[lace of the European Renaissance. The word Renaissance comes from the word rinascere which means “to be reborn”. This cultural movement spanned from approximately the 14th to the 17th centuries and Florence is widely accepted as the birthplace of this important era. Florence’s political power lay in the most influential Medici family. This powerful family is credited for the exposure of many great artists like da Vinci and Michelangelo and for its production of four Roman Catholic popes and two queens of France. Here, the city houses some of the most important and influential pieces of history, Renaissance art, architecture and monuments. The Uffizi Gallery is home to such artistic treasures as “Annunciation” by da VInci, Michelangelo’s “Doni Tondo“, Raphael’s “Madonna of the Goldfinch”, Andrea del Verrocchio‘s “The Baptism of Christ”, and my absolute favorite painting EVER – “The Birth of Venus” by Sandro Botticelli. Visiting the galleries in the Uffizi was like the ultimate field trip for my Humanities class at Milligan College. It was in that class that we were made to study these great works and their creators. But it was Botticelli’s work which moved me the most. When Ruthie and I came upon this great work, I reached behind me for the bench, stared and wept. I wept because I was viewing my favorite painting  – not in a book or as a slide, but the real canvas. I was fully aware in that moment of how lucky I was and I was overwhelmed. My 2nd favorite painting by Botticelli is entitled “Spring” and is located on the adjacent wall as “Venus”. I could have sat there all day.

At the Galleria dell’ Accademia, Michelangelo’s “David” towers at an impressive 17ft and is the central piece of work that is housed there. While other noted creations adorn the walls, it is “David” that people come to see. What is so impressive about this work is the great detail that Michelangelo included. Details such as: the visibility of the neck tendons, the intense gaze of David’s eyes and how the weight of the statue is forced on his left leg. It is awe-inspiring and hard not to photograph.

Because of time constraints, Ruthie and I spent the rest of our time in Florence photographing famous cathedrals and statues. We finally rested long enough to realize we were famished. So we took in a late lunch on the edge of the Palazzo Vecchio – a fantastic backdrop for our meal. Toward dusk, we walked in the direction of the train station, but not before having the biggest helping of gelato thus far. Delicious.

Our hour long train ride back to Rome zipped us through the night while a full moon lit the Italian countryside to our left and right. Arriving back in Rome after midnight, we collapsed into bed and woke early the next morning for our final, full day in Italy. Day  – The Vatican.

More to come….

Live well.                          Myself and Ruthie at a pub in Florence – train tix freshly purchased

The Roman Experience – Day 2 in Tuscany

I would venture to say that there are few actual places in the world that resemble the photographs taken of them. However, the province of Tuscany lives up to every photograph I have ever seen.

This region played an important role in culture and history, especially before the Italian unification. Scattered throughout the Tuscan countryside are fortified Etruscan towns such as Montepulciano, Orrieto, and Orte. These settlements were  the 8th and 9th centuries, BC, before the Roman Empire. While little is known about them, their towns reveal that they were and advanced civilization known for having invented the strongest architectural feature – the arch.

Our journey through this region took us to the town of Montepulciano (parts of the movie New Moon was filmed here) where time seems to have passed over the people here. Life still centers on the town square and family owned businesses line the streets. The narrow thoroughfares are dotted with brightly colored doors, shuttered windows, and small verandas decorated with potted plants.

     

Driving through this area, I was reminded of parts of the U.S. – rolling hills, farmland, and small family settlements dotting the landscape. the geographic features that made this region so unique were the tall and straight cypress trees, tan-colored fields of wheat and barley, olive trees with their silver leaves, and rows of grape vines.

The region revealed a secret of authentic living that Americans seem to have missed. Italians, regardless of class, live well. Note: this does not translate to material possessions. Rather, it is an attitude; a genuine thankfulness for the pleasures of simplicity. Consider this example: bruschetta with a freshly diced tomato, and a sprig of basil with olive oil. They do not consume merely for the sake of satisfying their hunger. The food is enjoyed simply for the grace that God showed in providing sun, fertile soil and water; not to mention the hands which labored to tend, harvest and then prepare the dish. It is as though we Americans live to consume things, food, and one another.

They live…and live well. That is something we can all remember to try to do…..

The Roman Experience – Day 1

When you are traveling to a destination that has developed in your mind for almost thirty years, the reality seems surreal when you finally arrive. As I walked through the Leonardo da Vinci airport, it seemed incomprehensible that I was actually in Italy. Was I dreaming?

No, it was real and tangible. The images I studied in my college Humanities classes were sweeping past my line of vision as I traveled from the airport. The Italian language surrounded me like a concert. I was there and my eyes, mind and heart was open to all Italy would show me in just eight short days.

After weaving through the back streets of Rome, I found and checked into the Hotel Concordia. It was charming and very European. There were four or five floors and only six rooms on each floor. The room was small in comparison to American standards, but efficient with very little space wasted. My shuttered windows opened to the street below and framed the buildings across the way. On the rooftop, there was an intimate seating area where breakfast was served each morning. The terrace offered a wonderful view of the city toward the Spanish Steps. It was charming, relaxing, and offered a great backdrop for planning the day ahead.

 Our room       The view outside our window

 View from the rooftop terrace of our hotel

My first taste of true Italian food was at a café called Restaurant Accadimia where I stopped for lunch. There I feasted on Pizza Caprese. The crust was a baked flatbread that resembled a pita style. There was no sauce; instead, the crust was piled with leafy lettuce, sliced tomatoes and large slabs of mozzarella cheese. The waitress suggested that the pizza be flavored with salt, extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegarette. It was delicious and not at all what I was expecting. Factor in the outdoor seating and I felt that I had come home.

The rest of the day, Ruthie and I walked the streets of Rome with no clear agenda on our mind. The hotel had provided us with a street map of Rome that became like a religious relic to us – we took everywhere and treasured its contents. Learning to navigate an unfamiliar city in a completely different language with a foldable street map was challenging to us at first, but as the day wore on we became more skilled and definitely more confident in our abilities to go wherever we wanted.

Our sightseeing brought us to many of the most beautiful and famous sites of Rome: the Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, the piazza del Popolo, and of course the endless churches that line the streets. Each Catholic Church we came to was open to the public. They are all ornate, filled with frescos, statues, and the smell of incense. I found that none of them became a bore for me to enter; it was almost as if I was being asked to stop by the various rooms in God’s house – each one offering a different insight into His love and grace.

 The Trevi Fountain – remarkable. People were everywhere.

 The interior of one of a dozen churches we visited on this day

 One of the monuments at the Piazza del Popolo

Late in the afternoon, we stopped at a gelato café called Caffe Maneschi on Via del Corso. I chose a combination of gelato consisting of Coconut and Mango. Gelato is from Heaven and I have requested of God to allow me my fill when I get there. It is so unlike our ice cream and nothing like sorbet. It is rich, creamy and the flavors are real, not manufactured. It would become our daily treat and one that we refused to go a day without.

 Gelato

We concluded our first full day in Italy with a late dinner at Ciao Bella near the Fontane de Tritone. It was here that we learned the most about the Italian way of eating. First, most people do not begin making their way to a restaurant until 8, but more likely it was 9pm. Dinner in Italy is a formal occasion that lasts into the late night hours. There were several times that our meals were concluded around midnight. Wine at dinner is just a given and Italian wine is sharp on the tongue with each vineyard tasting slightly different from the one before. Meals are served in courses. Pasta is not the main entrée in an Italian meal, but rather a side dish or even as a salad option. Instead, meats such as veal, lamb and fish are the main courses served with steamed vegetables. Bread is not served with butter, but rather, extra virgin olive oil and vinegarette. Flavors dance on your tongue in such an incredible way.

Lying in bed that first night, it all seemed to sink in that I was really there. I knew that Italy had so much to offer; what I wasn’t expecting was how much this adventure would teach me about myself. More to come…..

 

Live well….and do as the Romans do.

 Myself and Ruthie taking a break in the shade at the Piazzza Del Popoplo. We had been up about 24 hours at this point.

The Universal Human Experience

Hello Reader. It has certainly been a long time since we have met on this site. Ponder these three quotes about travel; they are truly some of my favorites.

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.” ― Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad/Roughing It

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” ― Marcel Proust

“You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place, I told him, like you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.” ― Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran

All three of the above quotes represent a piece of traveling that I love: meeting new people, seeing the world from a different perspective than my own, and realizing that such traveling means I will never be the same as before I left. All of these pieces are important for us to grow as humans. I like growing; even if it hurts, takes me to strange places, or leaves me shaken and homesick for who I was before.

Many have asked when the writings about my recent trip to Italy would be published. Uh…hmmm…that writing task has been one of the most difficult for me to accomplish. As I have looked at the more than 200 pictures I took on my trip, the words necessary to describe the beauty I saw have failed to reveal themselves to me. So as an introduction, I would like to share a few things I saw while abroad.

I captured the image of this woman while traveling through the Tuscan Province in the small Etruscan village of Montepulciano. I emerged from the church on the town square and noticed her just to my left. She appeared to be waiting to cross the road and as she would sweep her head from side to side, I caught glimpses of her aged profile. What struck me was her stooped stature, weathered look and the lines my camera lens captured around her mouth and her eyes. Were the laugh lines that framed her mouth the result of witnessing the antics of her children when she was a young woman? Perhaps they were a result of a private, intimate joke shared between she and her lover? I thought of the history she has witnessed – the Second World War, the unification of all the surrounding provinces into one Italian nation… Just as my feet moved toward her, she crossed the road. I lost her in the crowd outside a café; the stories she could have shared with me.

The above image was captured on the same day at the Abbey of Saint Antimo. This was a Benedictine Monestary, home to about a dozen Gregorian monks. The monk shown above was making his way across a courtyard filled with the most beautiful garden arrangement of lavender. The hue of purple was like nothing I had ever seen and as the hot breeze rustled the rough leaves of the olive trees behind me, the color purple seemed to change from one shade to another, like a wave. It was breathtaking. Shortly after capturing this picture, I went inside their sparsely furnished chapel and witnessed six of the resident monks performing Gregorian chants at the altar. Apparently, they chant five times a day, every day. It was hauntingly beautiful and the echoes of their prayers bounced across the wooden beams above us; perhaps a sampling of heaven here on earth.

I traveled to an even smaller village called Pienza. This village was known in the Tuscan region for its production of a wide variety of cheese. The side streets that jutted off the main thoroughfare were filled with small doorways leading to private lives, unseen by visitors (see picture above). As I rounded the corner that led back to the town square, I noticed a group of mourners at the church doors. Weeping openly was a young Italian man and woman, surrounded by loved ones and friends. I felt guilty as I watched such a private, intimate moment; yet, I was drawn to the sheer humanness of the event. As the casket arrived at the church, the cries became more intense. I stood in the shadows and wondered reverently about this scenario: What was their story? Who were they weeping for? I turned back down the alley (shown above) and left the living to mourn their dead.

Now, there is a Chinese superstition that says when traveling it is good luck to witness a funeral and bad luck to witness a wedding. As fate would have it, I was walking through Rome the next day and came upon the following (see picture below). Yep, the arrival of the bride and her father for Sunday nuptials. Regardless of where you come from or your own personal experience with the institution of marriage, the sight of a bride makes my eyes pool with tears. In this moment, all of the love two people have for one another as well as the hope they share in a future of happiness, is captured. The pride and love of her father was evident. The expectant groom was waiting for his bride at the top of the steps near the entrance of the ancient church. As she ascended those steps, I sent her some hope of my own and prayed she had on some really, good shoes, because that was one long, steep hike to reach the very top.

The last picture, below, shows the Spanish Steps at night crowded with people. The Spanish Steps were crowded, regardless of the time of day I happened to travel past them. Here, friends gathered to visit, eat gelato, and even lovers openly embraced in their own spinning world. It was here that I witnessed the greatest of lovers’ passions and the worst of a lover’s wrath. On one particular evening, the murmur and hum of voices was pierced with the angry voice of a woman to her lover. Now, I don’t speak Italian, but I know when a woman is having it out with a man. His efforts to console her were only met with greater intensity and angry passion. Again, I felt flushed with embarrassment at witnessing such a moment. Apparently, such things are common, because no one else around paid them any heed. After 30 long minutes, I looked back over and saw the same couple now twisted into a melted form of arms, legs and lips. Love won out, once again.

I guess the thing I want you to take away from these moments I witnessed in Italy, is the universal human experiences that we all share; regardless of our language, culture, customs, religious beliefs and history. Wherever you esteem to venture, the people of any country in the world will grieve and bury their dead, they will celebrate life with traditional ceremonies, worship in their own manner, will yearn to be loved and fight when they are scorned or hurt in some way. There is hope in the eyes of all children and a lifetime of history etched in the faces of each elderly member of a country. Perhaps, there are more similarities to find between us all than differences; you know, that Golden Thread of God that ties each one of us to the other. Maybe if we saw our similarities, rather than our differences, this world would be a much better, if not peaceful place to live.

Live well.

Suffocating Under Your Own Blanket

I love, Love, LOVE bookstores. I can spend a whole afternoon just meandering the aisles searching for new treasures to add to my book collection. Recently, I spent a couple of hours at a local chain bookstore. With a latte in my hand, I set out among the rows and rows of books until I came to a section that I usually pass right over: the self-help section. I stood there gawking at the number of self-help books that adorned such a small area. I mused at the variety of titles, subjects, and authors. Even psyched-out celebrities apparently have happiness to sell. There is even a book that listed 40,000 things to be happy about…RIGHT NOW!!! uh…..ok?

There was one particular book that did catch my attention though. I am somewhat familiar with this author and have read a couple of her earlier works. She is a tad “out there” for me and I find myself engaging the “FILTER” button on my brain whenever I read something she has written. ANYWAY, thumbing through this book, I stumbled across a concept that caused me to pause, re-read, and think deeper for a bit. Forgive me, reader, for not remembering the exact quote, but the basic premise was this:

When we put a “box” around the possibilities for our life, we might just be shutting out a blessing.

I thought about this notion for quite a while until an application for my own life became clear. Blanket statements. You know, you have made them before. They usually begin with (drumroll)

“I will NEVER _____________________ (fill in the blank here).

I call these blanket statements because I think the thought is that by taking such a bold stance towards an issue, it will protect (blanket) you from making the same mistake again or at least making the same mistake as someone else you know or have heard about.  I am guilty of making these in my past (both immediate and distant) as well as a couple of hours ago. When I look back to some of the most traumatic things that I have experienced, I can always go back to some sort of blanket statement that may have been said aloud or at the very least, thought within my head. There is one in particular that comes to my mind. (It is rather personal, so I will refrain) The problem with this particular one, is that I can hear my self-righteous voice spewing forth this prophesy that “I would NEVER…”. Only to find that I would later gorge down this “prophesy” like a starving refugee and vomit it back up for everyone to see.

Now, not all blanket statements have a ring of self-righteousness to them. Some can come from an encounter or experience in life that we wish to not repeat. I have been reminded in the last few days that I have made some very heavy blanket statements about what I expect from my future. I was also convicted of making such declarations in front of my daughters. The conviction from those statements led me to write an earlier blog about “Raising Up Daughters”.

So, I am pondering whether this author’s insight has any ring of truth to it. Do I want to “box” in my life? Do I want to know where every bend in the road is going to end? What is authentic in living like that?

I will not say with conviction that I will never make another blanket statement. More than likely, I will. Have you met me? However, I am going to keep my hands open to whatever possibilities that come my way. I will live with an open heart. I will recognize that my desire to close my hands comes from a place of fear. I will let my “blanket” keep my feet warm and not tangle me up into a strangle hold that suffocates the very life right out of me.

Happy living!!!