Reflections on patterns, lifestyles, and what I really want...nothing serious ;)
I am writing today from one of our villa’s several balconies, overlooking a green and lush park, shaded from the afternoon sun’s direct rays, listening to a breeze in the trees, and to the birds and bees (really!) This particular balcony is typically Tuscan colours: pastel orange walls, light sage seat pillows, weathered brown wooden chairs and table, and three Romanesque arches and pillars frame the opening into the grounds. The stone pillars and railing are older than Canada is as a country, making the depth of energy and feeling of this villa quietly oozing the knowing of history and perspective. It’s tough to explain in words, but it is truly an incredible feeling in this house. It was built in the 1500s. It’s seen so much worldly turmoil, witnessed the best and worst of people, housed families in hiding and the ever-so wealthy…and everything in between. Today it stands grand and worn, yet with a strength and presence that can only come from living through so much-and knowing a deep sense of truth and peace. I feel peaceful and inspired here. I also feel incredibly safe, as if the walls quietly let us know that it is happy to have us here and it will keep us protected.
Being in this part of Europe must land with a part of my soul that yearns to be reached more often in my day to day life. It’s the old, the history, the knowing of time and experience that my old-soul just doesn’t get at home. There’s nothing wrong with my home, either. I love where I live and a great part of me adores the fresh, wildness, and relative naivety of the Canada I’m growing up in. However coming to spend time in a place that seems to understand a deeper meaning of life….gosh, just resonates so deeply in me.
We were discussing yesterday, the family and I, how much we in North America live to work. So much work, so much worth-getting from work and career. Whereas here, life is not so much about work. They work to live. Work and career doesn’t seem to define them the way it does for us. I observed all the workers yesterday when we visited my favourite beach town, Lerici. Good-looking, all ages of people waiting tables, sweeping the streets, serving gelato, renting boats, working ticket stands, etc. Jobs that would be bottom of the barrel positions in Calgary and these people were working them happily, not trying to be anything other than what they are, and I can only imagine they head home after work and don’t give it another thought. We spoke to some restaurant owners, about how if they make the amount of money they need for a month before the month is up, many of them will close shop for the rest of the month! Because there is no need for excess, nor that insatiable need to get "more". Nah. They close up shop and enjoy the beach until next month. Do hobbies, for fun because they love it! Because life isn’t all about work.
I don’t think there is an inherently better or worse way to live between this Italian picture I’m painting and the North American way. It just stirs something in me that seems to land with me as something I’d like to hone more of. I don’t want to live to work. I know that’s been my habit my whole life as previously explained in other blogs. Working for my worth. Even finding ways to sabotage my artistic expression by putting pressure on it to “perform” well in the pubic eye; taking away the doing for the love of it. Being here is calling into question, as it does, the belief that I have made up that at the end of my life there’s going to be somebody there patting me on the back for how hard I worked. Being here is reminding me that that is a farce. There’s no one there. There isn’t even a “there”. Enjoying every minute of life is the point. Not working, working, working so that I can try and enjoy the fruits of my labour later. I never will. If I think I’ll be able to break the habit of constant working “later” , I am mistaken. If I’m constantly seeking and looking for this arbitrary concept of “more”, I will never be satisfied with what I have, ever.
The question is, can I be unreasonably happy with exactly what I have right now? Can I love my life right now? Can I love waitressing at the restaurant I work at right now and love it for what it is, not needing it to change to appease my ego? Can I love the house I live in for all it’s quirks? Can I love the car I drive without lusting after someone else’s? Can I love the body I’m in even when it’s having a bad day?
I’ve heard many well-off people say this, that if I can’t appreciate and do well with the $10 I have now, I won’t do well or be happy with $100. Or $1,000, or $1,000,000. I truly believe that, and I think it applies to everything. That’s the day to day work I’m always talking about: removing barriers to being happy right now. Of course that’s easy for me to say right now while I’m sitting in a beautiful 500-year old villa in Tuscany, wearing a dress with no shoes and no bra. I know it. I know it because even being here I still have waves of struggle, of anxiousness of needing to “do more”. However, I do always talk about this, even when I’m home. And I’ve been fortunate enough in my life to have traveled a lot, and am constantly humbled by the challenge of bringing the more accessible feeling of relaxation I have on vacation home to my every day life. The flip side, by the way, is the same shit, different pile: being on vacation can bring rise to struggles, too. Struggle of not being in the usual routines that I value so much. My eating habits, exercise, supplements, not working, etc. Being honest with myself about what life is actually like (on vacation and not), and accepting that I am the common denominator whether I am at home or on a trip. Sure, some places make it easier to let those blocks to happiness down than others. But wouldn’t it be cool to be free of needing the outside circumstances to be a certain way in order to be happy? I think so.