Travels

I leave tomorrow on my travels and I'm feeling kind of nostalgic, or I'm not sure exactly what. Like serious, pensive, thoughtful. I'm leaving for 3 months and it's the longest my Honey and I have ever been apart. Still, it's  all good. 6 weeks at Crossroads in Antigua where I worked for 2 1/2 years (before moving to Italy) to help out while one of their administrators is on leave. I love it there, the work and the staff and reconnecting with old friends.

Then, for 2 months around Christmas, to Trinidad where my daughter, her husband and two children live. My Honey joins me there to give us a month together. Hooray! A nice long stretch of family time is balm to my spirit, for sure. Interacting with my grandchildren in their environment gives me a whole new appreciation for them. It cements our relationship as well since I get to know them in their own home and appreciate how it shapes them.

Then the final stretch in FL for a half marathon. Unique this time is that my daughter is running in the same half-marathon as me. This is a first for us and we'll be joined by a couple of my nieces for yet another first. Last year I ran the full marathon by myself. It's the National Breast Cancer Marathon in Jacksonville, Florida on February 13 and the last 10 days of my journey. Other nieces, their children and my sister-in-law will be there to cheer us on so it will be great family fun.

So, I'm excited about each phase of my journey and looking forward to each for different reasons. The work, because I love and believe in it and know that treatment changes lives. Family time because this is where my heart is happiest and my roots are deepest and the sprouts are growing and I get to tend/love them to fuller life. And the running because I can when others can't, and I feel good doing it and it makes my body healthier so I can live longer and it shows another choice for how to age to my daughter and granddaughter and nieces.

But still, there's this other indefinable feeling going on. I guess sometimes we're mysteries even to ourselves until clarity happens. Maybe it's the thought, not yet reality, of missing John. I don't know. I'll keep in touch.

What's It All About?

I've not posted in a while and I've been thinking about what I really want to post. This started as a blog about my journey into elderhood, keeping as aware of the process as I am able. My move to Italy happened at the same time and that's been amazing in and of itself for me. So, sometimes my posts are travelogues and sometimes more about the journey. Which brings up the question of what to focus on.

After 1 year in Italy (this month) John wrote a newsletter for family and friends that summarized the biggest lessons we've learned in our first year: 1. The people are amazing! 2. Developing a network of friends is critical (corollary of #1). 3. Everything in Italy takes longer than expected. 4. Learning a new language in our 60's takes longer than we imagined (corollary of #3). 5. It is wonderful to be surrounded by such scenic beauty and rich history. He sat down and whipped those out in a short time. He's like that.

Just the writing with him of lessons learned made me wonder- "What's it all about, Alfie?" for me? Where am I on this journey 1 year down the line? What makes me the happiest? In my writing? In my life these days? What gets my juices flowing? Have I developed the focus I wanted when I first retired 1 year ago? Good questions but not many answers, though I wish there were. Meanwhile, I spent the entire day in Rome yesterday and saw such achingly beautiful paintings (Carvaggio), such beautiful places (Trevi Fountain, St. Peters, Piazza Navona), and such ancient history (the Apian Way, the original walls of Rome) that I wanted to weep, laugh and sit quietly to take it all in- all at once! Which keeps on happening this year and makes me want to write about it and makes me wonder if I've lost focus and....

So here I am, feeling awed, grateful and a little lost. I thought I would have more of a sense of what my next step should be by now. I love my life and I sense there's more expected of me, more to give. Is that left over catholic guilt or premonition? I don't know. I don't like not knowing so I'm more tempted to fill up the pages with adventures in Italy, but it's not just about adventures, is it? Isn't there something more important than adventures? Or should this be in praise of adventures? And isn't it unseemly to be this unsure at my age?

I'm doing the things that are in front of me to do: 1. growing with, loving and traveling with my husband, 2. becoming a full resident of this new and lovely country, 3. becoming closer to and cheering on my amazing daughter and nieces, 4. being an unconditional grandchild lover, 4. reading and writing on topics I find inspiring. Meanwhile, I'm cultivating presence to uncertainty and ambiguity these days and paying attention to what else comes my way. I hope I'm paying close enough attention so I find the way for me to serve, to find what else is to be born from me. I want to leave behind a too little self and allow full emergence into my self.

Is it just me that thinks this way? What do you think?

Comfort Zone

"Life begins at the edge of your comfort zone."
I'm there, at the edge of my comfort zone. And, of course, it's uncomfortable. Everything is okay until something goes a little haywire and I worry how I will explain it or how it will get resolved or if it will. I'm the outsider here in this different culture with it's different mores and different language that I'm just learning.
So far, things have gone well and everything has been settled as it needs to be. (Wow, it's powerful to see that in print.) Then why am I concerned? I think it's about this vague but very real lack of comfort that comes with being, well, at the edge of my comfort zone.
I don't know any way around this. Other than to stay in the present, remind myself of the truth of how things have gone and be grateful for what is. I espouse the values of the Damanhur community in Turin, Italy: sensitivity, optimism and friendship. I have the opportunity to live these out here in Italy on this new journey. These are important things to learn out here at the edge. Maybe this is the best place to learn them.

Joy

As I was sitting in my favorite chair reading, drinking tea and feeling the sun on my back, I turned around and caught these photos of the beach glass. This simple thing brought me such joy.

How To Do Business

I'm not sure how to adequately describe the first meeting of our homeowners association. Since I don't yet grasp all of the language, it leaves me free to watch the process and this process left me flabbergasted! I said that italians like to argue but this was remarkable. At any one time there were always multiple conversations going and usually heated exchanges. If someone wanted to argue a point with someone else, they would just get up and walk over to them and argue it out. At one point, someone got up to show something outside and took 3 others with him! The moderator seemed nonplussed by the whole process and never called for any particular order.
I don't know how anyone heard anyone else but every once in awhile a vote was taken and people raised their hands pro or con as if they heard it all. Decisions got made, people seemed to still be friends, the moderator was voted in for another stint and people stayed and chatted more at the meetings end.
John and I just looked at each other wondering what on earth just happened laughed! We obviously have a lot to learn about italian culture that makes such a process the way to do business.

Meltdown

It happened yesterday as my husband, John, and I drove to the beach for our morning walk/ run. It was over something small and inconsequential and had nothing to do with what was really going on. An argument ensued, of course, which got more heated until the real issues emerged.
I fell isolated when with Italian speakers (most everyone I interact with) and stupid not knowing the language except in a rudimentary way. I can't keep up any kind of conversation yet and I want to. I have so much to learn and these are the people who can teach me. I love talking and listening. I'm good at it, thrive on it. I miss it. How can I get to know my friends and neighbors? How can they get to know me? I have never had the experience of others communicating around me and me just being mostly silent. It feels so odd and lonely.
John said he saw an ad promoting living in Ireland and had the immediate response of "let's go!". I met a couple last evening from the US and they asked "why Italy?", "why Citta Sant'Angelo?". I looked at John as if to say "yeah, why?".
Through good talking with John and some writing, reasons emerged that are both true and that I decided I will share with those who ask (I haven't up to now): I'm called here for the next phase of my personal and spiritual growth and to craft my role as elder. Beyond that, I don't know and that's alright, however hard it is to experience. I'm where I'm meant to be and doing what I can to be fully here. It's all part of the work of this next phase, even if the reasons are obscure. I'm just where I'm supposed to be.

First Steps in Italy

I meant to keep a daily journal of this move to Italy- that is after all the purpose of the blog about the journey! But, I was unable to write for the first month. I didn't have the energy to tackle it- not once. Four weeks later and finally in our own apartment, I want to start, have the energy to start. Today.
I sit on our balcony listening to birdsong and looking at the Apenine Mts. There's a haze at the base of the the Maiela Mt. portion of the range directly south so that the snow capped peaks look like they're floating in midair. The range continues 180 degrees around us to the west and north layered behind one behind the other. Grand Saso, due west, has the range's highest peaks that form the jagged outline of a sleeping woman.
The countryside spreading out from our home to the mountains is lushly green after spring rains. Vineyards are everywhere and sprouting new leaves. The silver green olive trees gather in groves that grace the hilly landscape. Farmhouses here and there with red tile roofs are surrounded by newly plowed ground and newly planted crops. Small clusters of homes and ancient towns are on hilltops in the distance.
East is the Adriatic, although the sea is indistinguishable from the blue haze today. It is quiet except for a neighbor's music playing and his occasional outbursts of song. Down the hill, a dog barks his warning at infrequent passersby. Jasmine nearby and the the next door neighbor's lavender, rosemary, basil and bay leaves scent the air.
We are in our own apartment now after a month of getting utilities turned on and in our name and our permit to stay (permeso di soggiorno) applied for. It seemed endless, confusing and frustrating going through it although friends here say it went remarkably quickly for Italy. The hoop jumping and the conflicting advice on which hoops to jump through and how left me bewildered and tired.
Our saving graces, our guides, our friends- Emily and Enzo! We met them once last November when we came to sign papers for the apartment. They offered us a place to stay until we had utilities, drove us here, there and everywhere to get things done and served as translators, advocates and all round angels enabling us to get everything done. I feel such awe and gratitude at their generosity.
It seems impossible that I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't even write. I wanted to chronicle it all, these first steps of the journey, but just couldn't. I could only put one foot in front of the other and take another step. So I start here, in my own home, in Italy, with a bed, 2 sets of shelves, an outdoor table and chairs and 2 good friends. Maybe it's not such a bad place to start from.

Are we out of our minds?

"So do you think we're out of our minds making this move?" I ask my husband today. "Yes, I do. We're out of our minds and into our hearts." He says sweet, insightful things like that. I love him for that. It made me laugh which made me relax. We're in it together. We're saying "yes". we're taking the next step. All is well.
It's the "I don't knows" that get me. I also talked with my dear friend, Annee, today. She said "I don't know is the closest we come to God." She says wise things like that that I really don't quite understand and even make me mad but help at some subterranean level. She reminded me the last time I was in this fearful place a decade ago a great gift emerged- the gift of poetry. Of course, it's in the furnace that new things are forged.
So, the revelation of today was how important my incredible friends are to be able to walk this journey.