As I've officially hit the two month mark since I bought a one-way plane ticket and traveled to Naples, it seems appropriate for me to share with you at least some of what I've learned during my self-imposed exile.
People had said that the sun and the water and the salt in the air would be good for forgetting. But I realize now that I came to remember.
It is impossible to stand on the seam of the sea and the land and not recall just how small you are. And in turn your smallness reminds you of the infinite breadth of God's hands.
The word "crisis" comes from the root of a Greek word that means to decide. We find ourselves in crisis when we have to decide about something that we are not, well, ready to decide about: hence the anxiety, the fear, the shock, the anger and the sadness.
But rest assured, our crises come at exactly the precise moment they are needed in our lives, spurring us on so that we may survive. By the time the crisis arrives, the change--whatever it may be--has already occurred. Either we move forward humbly and gently trusting in our Divinely appointed capability of meeting the new, or we mourn forever.
So, moving forward only take with you your compassion, your faith, your ability to see the beauty in this world. Do not bring anything else. Leave room for the unexpected gifts that God and the universe will doubtlessly bestow upon you as you walk this new road simply by taking one breath after the other and putting one foot in front of the other.
And sooner--maybe sooner than you had feared--or later--maybe later than you had hoped--you will be walking again in cadence with your own heart beating.
And this song, my friend, no matter where you go, will serenade you home.
*Speaking of changes: I'm officially blogging now for Skirt! Magazine (a gift!). I will still be posting here, though slightly less often. I invite you to follow me at
http://skirt.com/lucie79
