Have you ever felt something bubbling up within you — a feeling, an inquiry, a thought — only to be met shortly thereafter by signs and potential answers or directions from a novel, movie, quote, conversation, social media post, billboard, TV show, class [you feel me]?
On my recent and very first solo vacation, I decided to read Call Me By Your Name which had been on my radar ever since the 2017 film. I found myself so touched and heartbroken by the end that salty tears would tumble down onto my beach towel whenever I would so much as think about the storyline during my final days in Sardinia.
It took some digging to discern why these fictional [yet profoundly relatable] words cut me so deep, and why it also felt strangely comforting to be affected by a piece of art in this way.
Regardless – as one does during a plethora of alone time – my mind cycled through stages of existential inquiries: everything from where [and to whom] I belong, to career path to finances, to if and when I would ever attain these desires.
Perhaps this is why the book gutted me: witnessing an albeit fictitious story unfold of unrequited feelings, words, dreams and love play out in a way that would tug on the heart strings of most empathetic humans…
The day after my arrival in Cagliari, Sardinia, my Airbnb host Lucia drove me to a little beach called Porto Cauli with an epic view of Pan di Zucchero. Much of the ride was silent until we became more comfortable navigating the language barrier, and we found ourselves discussing being single — which she was [as a mother] for many years.
She explained that living solo, she believes, is a very important time to get to know ourselves and what we want in our life. “It’s a good thing,” she proclaimed with her charmingly thick accent. I shared that I agreed, even though I was also in the midst of trying to figure out where exactly in the world I want to live [where I truly “belong”]; where I ultimately want to land and lower an anchor.
Lucia replied, “Better to think for right now — today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow — domani èn un altro giorno [translated from her favorite movie, Gone With The Wind].”
Tomorrow is another day. Think for today. I would do my best to remind myself this as I perused my loose itinerary, unsure of what I would do the following days or hours – let alone how the weather would shift from thunderstorm to sunshine, uncertain of where I would end up, enormously grateful to have this trip and this solo time in the first place amidst my personal queries and a global pandemic, occasionally pausing on the side of the road to stare out into the sea and wonder if I should divulge the anecdotes and post the pictures or just keep it all to myself.
Yes, it is absolutely important to have time to our Selves like Lucia and I discussed; to see and understand and therefore love ourselves; to find belonging in ourselves without seeking it elsewhere.
And yes, it is equally important to connect to others – whether animals or humans or Mother Nature herself – who might act as a mirror or offer insights that help us to interpret ourselves, our lives, and one another on a deeper level, some of which we simply cannot learn without them.
The sensitive side of me – including a doubtful ego who questions if anything I do has an impact – including a Catholic guilt I harbor for my good fortunes – didn’t want to share any of it: the photos, the feelings, the food [like I can resist sharing inspiring food…joke’s on me].
I thought I might hold these moments for my eyes and memories only, locked up in the “special reserves” vault to be nostalgically revisited from time to time when I felt moody or thankful; whenever the smell of carbonara or the sea or cappuccinos hit my nose and my heart.
But isn’t life meant to be shared? So that maybe — if by sharing our food or art or heart; the wisdom we gather from adventures, meals, conversations, big wins and big hiccups — someone can find a sense of belonging in our sharing? So that we might find some sense of refuge in ourselves through others — just like Lucia finds adventure through the stories of her global guests; how modern teachers learn from tales and tricks of ancient teachers from centuries past; how I found [and maybe lost a little of] myself and felt so understood [even though I didn’t quite understand my own triggered emotions] by a little book with a big impact?
I don’t know what tomorrow has in store for us, and I don’t know who will read this – who will ever read any of my writing – and who, if anyone, might resonate. But to all those who see themselves in something I share; who uncover an emotion or inquiry or answer that they might not have been able to pinpoint themselves — take my hand and andiamo.
Read the full newsletter for Lucia’s zucchini carbonara recipe [it will actually knock your socks off], details for the second virtual meditation series Sundays in October, a mindful reset meditation, 12% off Ripple organic cotton yoga wear, a favorite new podcast by an inspiring goddess, and good vibes.
Onward.
Photo: Spiaggia di Turredda, Sardinia, September 2020.
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