Return to Gather
Like almost everyone on our trip, I had overpacked. Traveling in Tuscany during not-quite-spring seemingly required a range of gear from sandals to sweaters, most of which we did not use. Like almost everyone, I lamented the lack of space in my luggage for things I wanted to use when I got home: olive oil, balsamic vinegar, vino. I promised myself I would go back and remember to travel light so I could come home full. We shipped the wine and filled our luggage to bursting, praying it would not be overweight, knowing it would be worth it if it was. Thanks to the magic of cloud storage, we all left with access to an abundance of photos that would remind us why we couldn’t wait to return. Each picture is easily worth a thousand words, each one a beautiful, warm, fuzzy reminder of the experiences that made our week together so special:
walking and driving through the rolling hills of Tuscany covered with their ubiquitous olive and cypress trees;
the take-your-breath-away beauty of a cliffside vista showcasing the Ligurian Sea, viewed from the cobblestoned streets of the Cinque Terre;
the towering medieval cathedrals and overflowing cafes on every piazza;
practicing in a studio whose windows revealed the depths of an elaborately tiled inground pool, which once provided the soundtrack for shavasana as raindrops beat their rhythm on the water’s surface;
the joyful, daily gathering of 19 unique humans, sharing homemade family-style meals, glowing with the content of ones who have been fed well by their days and each other.
Part of me still cannot believe that so much joy and beauty could be crammed into one week; a bigger part of me just wants to jump up and down and shout:
“It really is THAT amazing and now I get to do it again!!!”
Yet the reality is that no matter how amazing, warm and fuzzy my memories are, they will fade with time unless I do something with them. Writing now, I wonder what else I might remember had I attempted to capture these moments only one year or one month after coming home. What else would I have to draw from now had I attempted to chronicle my experience in words each day while I was there?
Even as a lifelong keeper of journals, the words I committed to paper during that magical week were relatively few. Still I’m grateful for my daily written gratitudes, which simultaneously reveal so much and so little:
I’m grateful Sheila shared her similar, last-minute travel story and encouraged me to share my own.
I’m grateful I woke up to a pastel sunrise outside our window.
I’m grateful for the chemistry of our group.
I’m grateful for a beautiful exploration of Lucca, finding cool shops, yummy food and hidden gems.
Every day, my entries ended: thank you thank you thank you. My final entry concluded with a phrase we had all adopted by the end of the week: grazie mille!
Of course, I still hold those thousand thanks in my heart yet I wish I could double-click each gratitude to reveal more:
What were the exact details of Sheila’s story that felt so resonant with my own?
What else was happening in my room and outside my window as I viewed that sunrise?
What did the chemistry of our group feel, look, sound like?
Where exactly are those cool shops and hidden gems of Lucca?
This time, I want the memories I carry to be more precise. During the next span of time between myself and Italy, I want to feast on and savor the details of how I spent my time there. I want to bring home more than a few tasty treats and the disjointed thoughts of a gratitude journal. This time, I want to bring home an artifact crafted by my own hands from the raw beauty of my Italian adventure.
So, with the help of my incredible friend, writing coach and retreat co-leader, Anne Heffron, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Are you ready for an Italian adventure?? Check out our Yoga and Creativity retreat in Tuscany (June 11-18th, 2022) and let yourself dream into possibility.
