I will be honest.
Pasta isn’t my favorite group of food in the world (please hold back your pitch forks, folks)
But let me tell you something you might already very well know: Italians know how to make carbs. And gelato. LOTS of gelato.
This was my first time visiting the marvelous and magical land of romance, gelato and unreasonable amounts of beauty in countryside vineyards and bustling historic streets. The preconceived expectations I had of Italy were that of sweet, slow living and life changing food. But to implement a reoccurrence of honesty, neither of those things were what I experienced the most of here.
This entire escapade was inspired by the place of Assisi, which I discovered through a non-fiction novel last year by one of my favorite authors.
St. Francis (native of Assisi) was a catholic Saint known for his kindness, grit and dedication to the poor.
He gave up his life of privilege to share the word and works of Jesus and his example is one many admire and aim to follow to this day. To love people, where ever you are and whoever you are with.
It got me to thinking:
The older I get, the more I see it.
The importance of rooting, not in places but in people.
Investing.
Pouring into whoever is in front of you. I’ve searched the world for property
Sea
Food
Time
That feels like home.
When in reality, home resides within me.
My feet
My hands
My heart within my spirit because that’s where God lives. And He places people in front of me in every zip code and continent I find myself in.
I was having a conversation with two missionaries who so graciously housed me for a night on this trip. They are currently transitioning in life and vocation, and the mention of difficulty found in keeping in touch with loved ones overseas bubbled up.
I have heard this line of thinking from many people, but for some reason, have never identified fully with the notion.
I’ve been an expert long-distancer (if that’s even a word) my entire life. With romantic relationships But especially with friendships. I don’t know why that it, but it is most definitely a strength with weakness on the other end. I’m much harder to stay sticky with those closest to me in proximity.
Maybe its the vulnerability that’s hard.
Maybe this is a conversation for my therapist.
But perhaps out of all the things I’ve learned on this escapade thus far, at the forefront is this: I’d like to get close. To be in the season I’m in. To stand in the weather that’s present. To sit with the people I’m next to while still maintaining connection to those miles away.
Is it possible?
I’ll let you know.
Beefsteak Florentine in Florence… A book title worth writing.