silence

I just double checked and there has only been silence on this blog now for six weeks. This is almost the amount of time we’ve been on lockdown. Five weeks of strict lockdown but a week or so before this started, there were already partial quarantine measures in place and social distancing rules that had begun. A few days before my last post, I’d gone to Florence for my latest appointment at the questura to pick up the renewal of my permesso di soggiorno, and I remember that the workers were already behind extra screens and were using gloves, while people in the waiting room were in masks. How far away that even seems, and how different of a world we are living in now - one that no one could have foreseen.

It’s for this reason, that most days I’m out of words to say. I don’t know what else to add regarding the current global situation, yet discussing anything other than this requires that this is acknowledged because it is forming almost every action / non-action in the world today. Down to this house project, which a lot of times feels so small and insignificant.

My mind goes back and forth day by day, and sometimes even hour by hour, between the highs and lows, hope and sadness. And so to reconcile these varied thoughts I have on this subject I feel I need to share both sides. They are not in any order, but I feel like I need to clear them, get them out of my head, so I can move on, start writing again, and start dreaming once again of this project which made me so excited for so long. Plus sometimes I feel guilty worrying about my job, or this house, when people are worried about their health, their lives. Then I acknowledge that it’s ok to be concerned about all the parts of life that we are dealing with. That I can feel sad about the loss of some things while being grateful for others, that everyone can have the freedom to grieve for the changes happening, even small ones in their lives, while participating in the collective mourning for the bigger things happening in the world like the people battling this on the front lines.

When this entire global crisis began I first had to deal with quick decisions regarding my company. Since it is based solely in the travel industry, it’s gone from a growing, sustaining, profitable and successful business to literally zero income within days. I shouldn’t even say zero, because expenses still stand, so it went to a negative number almost overnight. As much as I try to stay positive, which I feel like I do a good job of this during the high majority of days, there have been very low points. Some days the overbearing spiral of depression and what-ifs seem unbearable. I sometimes think this will all be over at some point and we will pick up where we left off, people will want to travel again, and this will all have been a big pause. Then other days I almost crumble thinking that if this goes on too long, the business I built for 10 years could be over. It’s sobering and I quickly go back to thinking of the things I’m grateful for.

Deep breaths. Resting on hope.
Another breath. Calm down.

Then I think how strange the timing is, when I’ve waited so long for this project and just within a couple of months of signing the contract binding me to spending almost all of my savings (plus some), I find myself in a place where I’m not only out of income, but also out of savings.

Scary. Daunting.
Deep breaths. Trust.

Most days I wake up and try to have some of my first thoughts be a few things I’m thankful for.
So thankful to be in Italy, a place I love and that is my home. Where I feel at home.
Thankful to have love in my life. People I love near me, both physically (which how much has someone holding you meant more than now?) and emotionally. A roof over my head. Space to roam (even inside with rooms to spread out in the house), outside space to be in nature. Food to eat. A healthy body and mind. To be able to stay home, while being thankful for those dealing with this head-on.

I’m so appreciative how this country has come together during this time. There is a positivity and hopefulness in the air which hasn’t been lost even in the dark days. There wasn’t panic buying, there is still plenty of the necessities on the shelves, and a calm and orderly process to get what you need.

There are videos and articles that make my throat clinch up with deep emotion when I see them. And these days I feel that I’m about to overflow with tears at most things - inspirational quotes, heartwarming memes, do-good stories. My armor is getting thinner it seems. I think that’s a good thing.

Each morning I find a funny meme online that makes me laugh before getting out of bed. I think it’s a nice way to start the day.

After trying to be productive when this all started - filling my newly-found “down-time” with plenty of the things I felt that I’d do “when I had time” - reading the stack of books on my desk, finishing the prep course for the sommelier level 3 certification which I’m taking later this year, scheduling more online lessons with my Italian tutor, being sure to fit in breathwork/yoga/meditation each day, writing on this blog - I quickly found that space was needed.

So I learned (am still learning) to give myself grace and allowance to just do nothing sometime. Just to sit with the silence - since when do we really get to do this? To take this time as a luxury of space, of possibility. To look at the lockdown as a collective responsibility that makes us all better.

I’d said many times in the past couple of years as my work expanded, sometimes faster than I felt that I could personally keep up, that I was feeling an ever-growing need to take a sabbatical. A month or so that I could regroup, create, dream of visions in a clearer way, listen. Well, in a completely difference sense, here it is. It’s not without the extra mental burdens of the logistics behind the scenes, but the space is here. The time to listen, look inward, dream bigger is here.

One thing that hasn’t wavered or changed during this entire time is my 100% belief that we will all be better after this. Humanity as a whole will be more evolved, more grateful, more loving. Yes we will be scarred, we will have lost, we will have suffered. But we will be better.

During the first week of the lockdown there was a “quarantine musical flash mob” where songs were played off balconies across Italy at 6pm. It started with just 3 nights (which we participated in) but since has spread to more versions here and around the world. This was the first evening in the video below - even though not too many people probably heard this in the countryside, the Italian national anthem rang out.

Now, slowly I’m finding the will to pull out the house plans again, make sketches for the interiors, ready my ideas for when things move forward again.

There are signs on the balconies in Italy “Andrá tutto bene!”
Everything will be alright.

This is now my mantra.