May 5, 2008
Where the moment takes us
You know that moment that happens as the night is winding down but nobody wants it to end? 15 empty wine bottle accompany a group of persistent friends on the tile floor, and the dining room table above is crowded with what's left of an amazing pot-luck dinner devoured earlier. Conversation wanders into subversive 4a.m. subjects like the metaphoric words for penis and vagina in various languages (fragolina, pescelina, pattetina) or how a woman orgasms better with socks on... And then before we know it it's 6a.m., pajamas are on, and we're tucking each other into spare beds, taking turns cuddling, squirmming, hugging and kissing each other. All of the cute and endearing knick-names of our childhoods are discovered and used like permenent reminders of how much we want the youthfulness, the simplicity, the pure fun of this night to last forever. So we just keep going until finally, the bodies that we've been stretching too thin for too long, finally give out and sweep us into the most perfect, blissful sleep. Tonight, we don't even need to dream.
Apr 29, 2008
"We Were Meant To Be Here Together...
...And that's just the way it should be."
-Devra, tonight, after a long day of highs and lows for all of us.
(Me and Dev in our Israeli pants just after spring break)
So I have T-minus 10 days in this amazing Florentine apartment/lifestyle, and despite my attempts to distract myself and just live it up for the time remaining, goodbyes have never been that simple for me. These things I cannot rid from every beat of my heavy heart: the fact that the most soulful, fun, and interesting women serendipitously became my roommates and have forever changed my being. Buckets full of memories spinning inside my head and the weight from them all about to spill over into joyful tears. The scary anticipation of crashing into boredom, loneliness, and stress after being on an extreme Italian high for 4 months. An overwhelming sense of gratitude and awe, and the uplifting reality that the world is way too expansive to ever run out of adventures. (Thank God!)
These times come around the bend every so often when it seems like the remainder of my life can only be reached by jumping off a cliff into a scary but incredible unknown. The reality is that I know how to cliff jump, because I've done it many times before, and due to my extensive experience, I've gotten a bit smarter and begun using a parachute instead of just hoping for some wild and magical force in the universe to catch me. Point is--no matter how experienced a cliff jumper is, one never takes the leap without stomaching a pit of nerves and knots. But the feeling of being in the air, of letting yourself fly instead of fearing the fall, and then the happy surprise of landing on your own two feet... that's the feeling that we jump for.
I took that leap coming here to Italy--leaving everything I felt comfortable with to experience a complete unknown, and here I am, not just standing on my own two feet, but dancing in fullness and freedom. I know that new horizons await, beautiful ones at that, but I can't pretend it's easy to shake the reality that I'd love to let this flight coast on...
So in an attempt to fill in the gaps between my experiences and my recordings of them, I'm going to try to write a blog a day for my time remaining in Florence, prompted by a picture or two.
All my love, and thanks for still checking in..
Rachael
(Carolina and Devra tonight at Cuiro/Scuro -light/dark- for apartivi)
-Devra, tonight, after a long day of highs and lows for all of us.
(Me and Dev in our Israeli pants just after spring break)
So I have T-minus 10 days in this amazing Florentine apartment/lifestyle, and despite my attempts to distract myself and just live it up for the time remaining, goodbyes have never been that simple for me. These things I cannot rid from every beat of my heavy heart: the fact that the most soulful, fun, and interesting women serendipitously became my roommates and have forever changed my being. Buckets full of memories spinning inside my head and the weight from them all about to spill over into joyful tears. The scary anticipation of crashing into boredom, loneliness, and stress after being on an extreme Italian high for 4 months. An overwhelming sense of gratitude and awe, and the uplifting reality that the world is way too expansive to ever run out of adventures. (Thank God!)
These times come around the bend every so often when it seems like the remainder of my life can only be reached by jumping off a cliff into a scary but incredible unknown. The reality is that I know how to cliff jump, because I've done it many times before, and due to my extensive experience, I've gotten a bit smarter and begun using a parachute instead of just hoping for some wild and magical force in the universe to catch me. Point is--no matter how experienced a cliff jumper is, one never takes the leap without stomaching a pit of nerves and knots. But the feeling of being in the air, of letting yourself fly instead of fearing the fall, and then the happy surprise of landing on your own two feet... that's the feeling that we jump for.
I took that leap coming here to Italy--leaving everything I felt comfortable with to experience a complete unknown, and here I am, not just standing on my own two feet, but dancing in fullness and freedom. I know that new horizons await, beautiful ones at that, but I can't pretend it's easy to shake the reality that I'd love to let this flight coast on...
So in an attempt to fill in the gaps between my experiences and my recordings of them, I'm going to try to write a blog a day for my time remaining in Florence, prompted by a picture or two.
All my love, and thanks for still checking in..
Rachael
(Carolina and Devra tonight at Cuiro/Scuro -light/dark- for apartivi)
Apr 23, 2008
Pictures Speak Louder Than Words PartII...IRELAND
Ireland was never on my list of "places to go" when coming abroad, but after lots of mayhem trying to secure spring break plans, Jodi told me that she was going to Ireland with our mutual friend Spencer (among others), and I was welcome to come along. This was another one of those times when I was led to exactly where I was meant to be. Ireland was beyond fun, exciting and beautiful in so many ways, but I'll just let the pictures speak for themselves...
First night in Ireland I actually spent with Anna and Melissa, two girls from my program, before Jodi and Spence came. Go figure, we met two crazy Italians from Venice and ended up on a voyage for Guiness together because it was Good Friday so all the bars were forbidden to sell alcohol. Needless to say, we found our Guinesses and danced til 4AM.
Every great city has a great river...Dublin.
Jodi sleeping on the bus on our way to Gallaway--a beautiful and funky town in central Ireland.
Jodi and Spencer riding bikes in the Killarny National Park.
After a long but breathtaking bike ride to the falls.
The view on the bike ride home!!
Back in Dublin we took a tour of the Guiness Wearhouse Factory where we learned all about the brewing process and other convincing reasons why Guiness is so amazing (good sales people, mostly)--then, to top it all off (literally) we got to pour our very own "perfect" pints and enjoy them at the TOP of this amazing factory with a panormaic view of Dublin. This fine lady in the pic was our beer mentor. We loved her.
Andddd a few Guinesses later we somehow ended up floating around in a giant glass of Guiness foam.... I'll leave this one up to you...
Cheers & Love!
Rach
First night in Ireland I actually spent with Anna and Melissa, two girls from my program, before Jodi and Spence came. Go figure, we met two crazy Italians from Venice and ended up on a voyage for Guiness together because it was Good Friday so all the bars were forbidden to sell alcohol. Needless to say, we found our Guinesses and danced til 4AM.
Every great city has a great river...Dublin.
Jodi sleeping on the bus on our way to Gallaway--a beautiful and funky town in central Ireland.
Jodi and Spencer riding bikes in the Killarny National Park.
After a long but breathtaking bike ride to the falls.
The view on the bike ride home!!
Back in Dublin we took a tour of the Guiness Wearhouse Factory where we learned all about the brewing process and other convincing reasons why Guiness is so amazing (good sales people, mostly)--then, to top it all off (literally) we got to pour our very own "perfect" pints and enjoy them at the TOP of this amazing factory with a panormaic view of Dublin. This fine lady in the pic was our beer mentor. We loved her.
Andddd a few Guinesses later we somehow ended up floating around in a giant glass of Guiness foam.... I'll leave this one up to you...
Cheers & Love!
Rach
Apr 13, 2008
The Saharawi Occupation and Who You Meet Along the Way
I was walking down a cobble-stoned road on my way to Michelangelo's Piazza at the top of a hill in Florence. A middle-aged guy, thin and fit looking, was the only other person sharing the winding street with my two friends and me. At one point, he stopped, pulled out a tour book and began looking for directions. "You need help finding something?" I called over to him from across the road. We met each other half way and he told me that he was following a walk that led him to the top of Michelangelo's Piazza. "Right this way, mister...we're heading in the same direction."
Glenn Hooker was this smiley man's name, Australian Business Development Manager an Aussie VoIP provider, father and soccer coach to his 5 and 7 year old sons, and husband to his entreprenurial wife.
"What are you doing here in Florence?" I asked.
"Well actually, I just finished running a marathon in the Sahara Dessert, and I was on a team with a bunch of Italians, so I decided to finish up my trip with a week touring Italy."
"Wait, what?! A marathon in the Sahara? Was there some sort of cause involved?"
"Actually, yes." And then like it was just part of his daily life he said, "The marathon was to raise money and awareness about the situation of the Saharawi people. I spent a week living with them in their refugee camps and learning about their struggle, and now my whole mission is to go home and educate people about their situation"
Obviously intrigued I said, "Well, here's the chance to start...let's hear it."
(Saharawi Refugee Camp. photo stolen from www.medea.be)
And that's when the whole story came out. For the next 45 minutes Glenn and I walked and talked, as he told me the story of his experience living with the Saharawi people in mud huts and tents in the Smara and Dajla camps of Algeria. He told me about the kindness, toughness, and brightly spirited personalities of the Saharawi people. About the unbearable heat that was apparently "ideal" compared to sandstorms of past marathons that wiped out the entire camp in a matter of hours. About the community garden that was a few hundred square meters; not large enough to feed the 30,000+ people living in Dajla, but good for the spirit of self-sufficiency. And then he told me the politics of the situation--what I hate hearing the most because I hear it all too often--the story of thousands of innocent people oppressed and violated due to greed, money, and a hollowness that easily forgets the value of human beings. The reason why this marathon was needed.
Glenn did his part to pass along his knowledge of this situation to me, and now it's my turn to pass that knowledge to you. Here is a quick summary of the background of the Saharawi refugee camps in Algeria--one of the only places in the world the UN acknowledges as non-self governing. (Thank you Glenn, for providing most of this information).
It's the late 19th Century and Europeans are colonizing all over Africa when Spain claims the land occupied by the Saharawi's, the indigenous people of the Western Sahara. Saharawi nationalists fought through the 1950's, 60's and 70's to reclaim their land, even forming their own representative group, the POLISARIO. In 1975, the POLISARIO were on the verge of independence, when Spain signed a clandestine treaty with Morocco and Mauritania to split the land into three instead of granting liberation. (The Saharawi people were one of Morocco's biggest allies in their struggle for independence from the French, by the way).
The result led to an unfortunate armed struggle and tens of thousands of Saharawis fled their homes in Western Sahara as Morocco dropped American napalm and phosphorous bombs on civilians. Facing aggression from countries both north and south, the fleeing Saharawis turned east, to Algeria. There, they were granted asylum and began to build refugee camps in an area of the desert considered uninhabitable. The task of creating a new life in exile fell to the women while the men remained at battle. Saharawi women developed committees and systems for health care, education, day care, social affairs, resource distribution and played an active role in the political process.
Today, most of the indigenous people of the Western Sahara continue to live in the refugee camps set up during a time of struggle. 80% are women or children, and despite living with conditions considered "inhospitable", these spirited people would rather endure and chose a life in exile, than live under the rule of a government whose reign has sought to erase their existence. (http://www.wsahara.net/camps.html)
A referendum to decide the fate of the country has been proposed and accepted by the UN, but has never come to pass. What can we do? Raising global awareness will play a significant role in forging a resolution and ending the suffering of the Saharawis who face gross human rights abuses in the occupied areas.
Sometimes as Americans we let our geographic isolation keep us from international awareness. But if Glenn Hooker living in Australia can make the choice to leave his comfort zone and explore the challenging realities of a foreign group of people, we can try to do the same. After writing me an impressive list of triatholons, iron man races, and marathons that he's previously participated in, Glenn wrote to me in our most recent e-mail, "Anyway, if I can particpate in a few of these challenges that have great causes behind them then it's happy days!" To me, this statement captures quite well Glenn's lighthearted but also serious committment to doing good in the world, and I feel truly inspired.
Please, share this story with others. And if you have any stories you think people ought to know about, send me an e-mail and take some space here as a guest blogger.
To learn more about the Saharawi situation, check out these websites:
http://www.wsahara.net/camps.html (history, geography, etc)
http://www.waronwant.org/Profiting20from20the20Occupation3AOther20Resources+10860.twl (politics, corruption, etc)
http://www.rjr.ru.ac.za/rjrpdf/rjr_no27/Sahawari_struggle.pdf (a first hand story of the struggle)
http://travel.webshots.com/album/558320295cWgAvC (pictures)
My heart is heavy and aching today with compassion, a tinge of sadness, and that unavoidable thing called HOPE after reading through tons of articles and looking over too many pictures. Thanks for spreading the word...
Peace,
Rachael
PS--Apologies for being so disconnected from this blog lately. I only have 3 weeks left in Florence and I'm soaking in as much as possible. I'll try to update about my spring break in Ireland, along with other amazing experiences soon. All my love!
Glenn Hooker was this smiley man's name, Australian Business Development Manager an Aussie VoIP provider, father and soccer coach to his 5 and 7 year old sons, and husband to his entreprenurial wife.
"What are you doing here in Florence?" I asked.
"Well actually, I just finished running a marathon in the Sahara Dessert, and I was on a team with a bunch of Italians, so I decided to finish up my trip with a week touring Italy."
"Wait, what?! A marathon in the Sahara? Was there some sort of cause involved?"
"Actually, yes." And then like it was just part of his daily life he said, "The marathon was to raise money and awareness about the situation of the Saharawi people. I spent a week living with them in their refugee camps and learning about their struggle, and now my whole mission is to go home and educate people about their situation"
Obviously intrigued I said, "Well, here's the chance to start...let's hear it."
(Saharawi Refugee Camp. photo stolen from www.medea.be)
And that's when the whole story came out. For the next 45 minutes Glenn and I walked and talked, as he told me the story of his experience living with the Saharawi people in mud huts and tents in the Smara and Dajla camps of Algeria. He told me about the kindness, toughness, and brightly spirited personalities of the Saharawi people. About the unbearable heat that was apparently "ideal" compared to sandstorms of past marathons that wiped out the entire camp in a matter of hours. About the community garden that was a few hundred square meters; not large enough to feed the 30,000+ people living in Dajla, but good for the spirit of self-sufficiency. And then he told me the politics of the situation--what I hate hearing the most because I hear it all too often--the story of thousands of innocent people oppressed and violated due to greed, money, and a hollowness that easily forgets the value of human beings. The reason why this marathon was needed.
Glenn did his part to pass along his knowledge of this situation to me, and now it's my turn to pass that knowledge to you. Here is a quick summary of the background of the Saharawi refugee camps in Algeria--one of the only places in the world the UN acknowledges as non-self governing. (Thank you Glenn, for providing most of this information).
It's the late 19th Century and Europeans are colonizing all over Africa when Spain claims the land occupied by the Saharawi's, the indigenous people of the Western Sahara. Saharawi nationalists fought through the 1950's, 60's and 70's to reclaim their land, even forming their own representative group, the POLISARIO. In 1975, the POLISARIO were on the verge of independence, when Spain signed a clandestine treaty with Morocco and Mauritania to split the land into three instead of granting liberation. (The Saharawi people were one of Morocco's biggest allies in their struggle for independence from the French, by the way).
The result led to an unfortunate armed struggle and tens of thousands of Saharawis fled their homes in Western Sahara as Morocco dropped American napalm and phosphorous bombs on civilians. Facing aggression from countries both north and south, the fleeing Saharawis turned east, to Algeria. There, they were granted asylum and began to build refugee camps in an area of the desert considered uninhabitable. The task of creating a new life in exile fell to the women while the men remained at battle. Saharawi women developed committees and systems for health care, education, day care, social affairs, resource distribution and played an active role in the political process.
Today, most of the indigenous people of the Western Sahara continue to live in the refugee camps set up during a time of struggle. 80% are women or children, and despite living with conditions considered "inhospitable", these spirited people would rather endure and chose a life in exile, than live under the rule of a government whose reign has sought to erase their existence. (http://www.wsahara.net/camps.html)
A referendum to decide the fate of the country has been proposed and accepted by the UN, but has never come to pass. What can we do? Raising global awareness will play a significant role in forging a resolution and ending the suffering of the Saharawis who face gross human rights abuses in the occupied areas.
Sometimes as Americans we let our geographic isolation keep us from international awareness. But if Glenn Hooker living in Australia can make the choice to leave his comfort zone and explore the challenging realities of a foreign group of people, we can try to do the same. After writing me an impressive list of triatholons, iron man races, and marathons that he's previously participated in, Glenn wrote to me in our most recent e-mail, "Anyway, if I can particpate in a few of these challenges that have great causes behind them then it's happy days!" To me, this statement captures quite well Glenn's lighthearted but also serious committment to doing good in the world, and I feel truly inspired.
Please, share this story with others. And if you have any stories you think people ought to know about, send me an e-mail and take some space here as a guest blogger.
To learn more about the Saharawi situation, check out these websites:
http://www.wsahara.net/camps.html (history, geography, etc)
http://www.waronwant.org/Profiting20from20the20Occupation3AOther20Resources+10860.twl (politics, corruption, etc)
http://www.rjr.ru.ac.za/rjrpdf/rjr_no27/Sahawari_struggle.pdf (a first hand story of the struggle)
http://travel.webshots.com/album/558320295cWgAvC (pictures)
My heart is heavy and aching today with compassion, a tinge of sadness, and that unavoidable thing called HOPE after reading through tons of articles and looking over too many pictures. Thanks for spreading the word...
Peace,
Rachael
PS--Apologies for being so disconnected from this blog lately. I only have 3 weeks left in Florence and I'm soaking in as much as possible. I'll try to update about my spring break in Ireland, along with other amazing experiences soon. All my love!
Mar 21, 2008
What Italians Do Better...
No, I'm not talking about gelato or pasta... I'm talking about healthcare. (Although, I must admit, they take the prize on the former also)
This past week for me has been like a rollercoaster of sickness in more directions than imaginable. From a sinus infection, to a fever and chills, to a wisdom tooth swelling my bottom gums and paining me to smile--my reasons for misery have been plenty! Even more, I'm leaving for my spring break to Dublin tomorrow, for which I'm extremely excited yet nervous because traveling while sick is never the best idea.
As to be expected, I've been having moments of panic thinking about going to a doctor, then trying to figure out how I'd pay for the visit and any medications prescribed to me with my limited insurance and low budget. Then I remembered... I'M IN ITALY! Healthcare is not only extremely affordable... it's practically free! Better yet, oftentimes no doctor is needed in order to receive the exact antibiotic that you're looking for. Through the grapevine I heard that you can just walk into the pharmacy, tell them your symptoms, and be given exactly what you need to heal your woes. So I figured I'd give it a shot.
15 minutes and 30 euros later I was the happiest patient ever! With 2 antibiotics for my sinuses and an all-natural anti-bacterial spray for my gums, I am completely set for traveling. My attitude has sky rocketed, and I feel better already knowing that I don't have to worry about feeling miserable and sick during spring break. What a relief. No doctors, no insurance companies, no long lines and annoying processes. Just the medications I need at an affordable price and in a timely manner.
So I've been walking around ecstatic all day blabbing to my friends about the great news. A few of them--especially the Italian ones--just chuckle at me. Americans they think, So excited about something so normal to us. But for me, the American who pays 10-50 dollars for a prescription AFTER my insurance deductions, doctors visits, and long lines at the pharmacy, this is quite the steal!
Point is, America, we've got this healthcare thing all wrong. Politicians and pharmaceutical companies are so intertwined that even when we have presidential candidates promising us reform, we have no one promising us what is absolutely necessary: a step away from corporate greed and bureaucracy that profits off of human illnesses. We must begin to learn about the different systems and alternatives that would be most comprehensive and cover the most people with the best quality at the lowest cost. I personally, along with many progressive doctors and politicians, believe that the single-payer system is the way to go. (Read more about single-payer here at http://www.pnhp.org/). If you're interested in seeing more about the healthcare issue in the States, I would highly recommend Michael Moore's Sicko. It's one of his best documentaries yet, and focuses on the issue at hand more than a political bias.
Well I hope that you're all enjoying your spring break in good health and happiness. And if you're fighting the healthcare insurance companies over one thing or another, I advise you to book a flight to Italy, get what you need at a pharmacy, then stay at my place for a week and make a vacation out of it. I can guarantee it'll be the best trip to the pharmacy you'll ever make!
Ciao,
Rachael
This past week for me has been like a rollercoaster of sickness in more directions than imaginable. From a sinus infection, to a fever and chills, to a wisdom tooth swelling my bottom gums and paining me to smile--my reasons for misery have been plenty! Even more, I'm leaving for my spring break to Dublin tomorrow, for which I'm extremely excited yet nervous because traveling while sick is never the best idea.
As to be expected, I've been having moments of panic thinking about going to a doctor, then trying to figure out how I'd pay for the visit and any medications prescribed to me with my limited insurance and low budget. Then I remembered... I'M IN ITALY! Healthcare is not only extremely affordable... it's practically free! Better yet, oftentimes no doctor is needed in order to receive the exact antibiotic that you're looking for. Through the grapevine I heard that you can just walk into the pharmacy, tell them your symptoms, and be given exactly what you need to heal your woes. So I figured I'd give it a shot.
15 minutes and 30 euros later I was the happiest patient ever! With 2 antibiotics for my sinuses and an all-natural anti-bacterial spray for my gums, I am completely set for traveling. My attitude has sky rocketed, and I feel better already knowing that I don't have to worry about feeling miserable and sick during spring break. What a relief. No doctors, no insurance companies, no long lines and annoying processes. Just the medications I need at an affordable price and in a timely manner.
So I've been walking around ecstatic all day blabbing to my friends about the great news. A few of them--especially the Italian ones--just chuckle at me. Americans they think, So excited about something so normal to us. But for me, the American who pays 10-50 dollars for a prescription AFTER my insurance deductions, doctors visits, and long lines at the pharmacy, this is quite the steal!
Point is, America, we've got this healthcare thing all wrong. Politicians and pharmaceutical companies are so intertwined that even when we have presidential candidates promising us reform, we have no one promising us what is absolutely necessary: a step away from corporate greed and bureaucracy that profits off of human illnesses. We must begin to learn about the different systems and alternatives that would be most comprehensive and cover the most people with the best quality at the lowest cost. I personally, along with many progressive doctors and politicians, believe that the single-payer system is the way to go. (Read more about single-payer here at http://www.pnhp.org/). If you're interested in seeing more about the healthcare issue in the States, I would highly recommend Michael Moore's Sicko. It's one of his best documentaries yet, and focuses on the issue at hand more than a political bias.
Well I hope that you're all enjoying your spring break in good health and happiness. And if you're fighting the healthcare insurance companies over one thing or another, I advise you to book a flight to Italy, get what you need at a pharmacy, then stay at my place for a week and make a vacation out of it. I can guarantee it'll be the best trip to the pharmacy you'll ever make!
Ciao,
Rachael
Mar 16, 2008
Parigi! (Paris in Italian ;)
Ru and Jodi at a tapas resturant in HOTlanta. Summer of '06.
We'd been planning this trip since the time we figured out our semester's abroad in Europe would all overlap. Jodi, my long time soul-mate, is studying Music and English in London right now. And Ru, an incredible Croatian woman who we met at an international hostel in Atlanta, is working on her masters in French and English in Paris. So last weekend after much anticipation and e-mailing back and forth, we all met in the middle. My friend Anna who's studying with me here in Florence also joined in on the fun.
The trip was flavored with all kinds of ingredients: crepes of every assortment, red wines to the nine (ok, they were 2 euro bottles), cappuccinos on the corner, toss a few sexy Argentinean men in there, and some KFC to make you feel right at home.(Hey!--when it's pouring rain in every direction, there's no where under 20euros for lunch and you need a place of refuge...fast!...KFC's good for it!)
Exquisite tastes aside, Paris was nothing like what I was expecting. (This is what happens when you go places without reading or researching practically anything before hand...) It was much more quaint and quiet seeming on the outside. Yes, the city is HUGE, as we quickly learned after spending probably 1/5th of our time on the Metro...but when you're walking around outside, there's such a pleasant, clean, relaxed feel to things. Nothing like huge, dirty cities in the U.S. (NYC, Boston...). Maybe it's because so much of the traffic is happening underground on the Metro...they've got a really great system.
So we did most of the touristy things, which were really nice--Notre Dam was absolutely beautiful on the inside; the Impressionist Art Museum had a great exhibit with some of the first photographs ever taken; the Lurve...incredible architecture and tons to appreciate when you're not on the same floor as the Mona Lisa--when you are, it's just a sweaty hell; Mount Martre and the Moulin Rouge windmill; and of course, the Eiffel Tower.
Ah, the Eiffel Tower... so beautiful... and to make it even better, Jodi, Anna and I picked up 2 bottles of cheap red, brought along some empty water bottles, and when the time was right, overlooking the river and the tower, we popped those babies open and had one of the most romantic moments of our collective lives--sipping cheap red from water bottles, giddy that the Eiffel Tower was "having sex with the sky" (it did this pulsating, sparkling thing every half hour that would last for about 10 minutes and get really fast at the end before it stopped...sounds like sex to me), and to top it all off (no, not in that way, gutter-brains..) it was international WOMAN'S DAY!!!--A holiday widely celebrated across Europe with the giving of mimose flowers. So naturally, in English, we cheered happy woman's day to every woman that passed. The whole evening was flawless. Except when we missed the last Metro home, wandered around aimlessly for about an hour, then finally agreed to take a taxi which was surprisingly inexpensive. 1 point for the French!
Actually, despite all the bashing that the French always get, I think they do a lot of things right. They're the artists of the world who say they need vacation time so their minds can rest and their creativity can harbor. I say more power to them! Who says the rest of the world's got it right? Maybe they can be a little snotty, but maybe they just feel misunderstood (shout out to all the NFs of the world)...
And this is when you can tell that my thoughts are getting blurry, and my mind too lazy to write coherently. Apologies for neglecting this blog more than anticipated... I think shorter, more frequent posts might be good... I'll post some pics from Paris if Jo sends them to me. Unfortunately, my camera died part way through...
Ciao lovers,
Rach
Mar 2, 2008
Everything Must Change
(Written Saturday afternoon) Yesterday was a day of hopeful letdowns. I went to bed the night before with a mission to do two things the next day: go to the Boboli Gardens and Michelangelo’s Piazza. It was strange moment though--one of those times when I knew no matter how set in stone my plan was, and how easy to accomplish it would be, something was bound to get in the way. Well, there's nothing like trusting my intuition 'cause that baby knows what's up! For more excuses than I care to explain or you probably care to hear, I didn't accomplish my plan. My entire day consisted of a series of wrong-time-wrong-place situations added to my already miserable drippy nose and broken cell phone, making it all too easy to just give up on the plan and spend most of the day reading depressing poetry in an English bookstore near the Duomo.
Allura, I've found that there's no worse feeling these days than when I feel like I've wasted a day here--a day in Florence, a day in Italy, a day in Europe that could have been more, more, more than what it was, was, was. And then my internal thoughts go something like this: WHY did I NOT follow through on my PLAN that was supposed to be so EASY? What's WRONG with me? I'm in ITALY--what am I doing wasting this day?
In all honesty, I just have to laugh at myself. Of course I didn't accomplish the easiest plan in the world that I had all day to do. Of course not! Because when I woke up yesterday morning (or better yet, when I went to bed the night before), I knew I didn't really want to go to the gardens or piazza anymore--I felt sniffly, sick and gloomy. But I didn't want to give up on the only thing that seemed worthy of my precious time here. I didn't want to let go of The Plan (meaningful experiences only possible in Florence) and leave things up to The Universe (probably meaningless things available world wide; ie, my laptop and snot-filled tissues).
But I'm convinced that sometimes we makes plans to do tangible things because we know that we have tons of soul work to do. We write: buy toilet paper and new sponges, and go to the museums and gardens, to avoid writing: be honest, be brave, and trust yourself (even your lonely or bad-mood self). We spend days accomplishing lots of things but nothing that we really needed. Nothing that was really what our heart was calling out for.
So yesterday was one of those days where I tried my ass off to accomplish what I didn't actually feel like doing--and I never accomplished it.
But today, on and on like a mantra, the phrase "everything must change" sang to me on constant repeat. I woke up and knew that today was going to be different. Without the slightest plan in mind (no, I was not going to try at the gardens and piazza again...not yet), I was ready to greet whatever the Universe had in store for me. I was ready to listen for what I actually wanted, what I actually believed was important for this day and this moment in this place. And suddenly, my cell phone rings and it's my roommate Anna asking if I'd go to brunch with her. Of course! Says the girl who hasn't seen signs of life in ages, seemingly.
Brunch was delicious and even better thanks to such honest conversation between Anna and I. So as we're walking home, there's a hair salon that I decide to peak my head into. I've been contemplating chopping off my hair for some time now, but I've never had the feeling that it was really what I wanted--just a fluky thought. So I peak my head in and ask them what they think of me going-afro style...to which all the people in the salon replied that they thought it would be absolutely beautiful and they could do it right here, right now, give me your jacket, do you want to be shampooed?, we'll give you a student discount, here's a picture, is this what you want?
John Lucca was his name and I am in love with the way he took an electric razor to my hair and perfectly buzzed it into place. The feeling I have from finally letting go of the idea that I need a certain hair style or image to be myself is so liberating. I don't need that length to feel the length of me. I can just let it go and let loose. What a feeling.
I've never felt so positively effected by a hair cut in my entire life. I feel like taking the scary step to buzz it all off gave me so much courage today--courage that I really needed. Courage to be strong enough to admit my clarity, to be kind and honest enough to gently break the Truth to someone who really needed me to say it, to be wise enough to let go of the missed imaginings, to be peaceful enough to embrace the beautiful present.
Sometimes we make lists of things we don't really need to do and we fill our days trying to get them done. But sometimes, those things can be magically meditative, and just doing them can be enough to clear our minds and lead our strides exactly where they ought to go.
What magical places has the Universe led you lately?
All my love,
Rach
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