benedetta primavera.

It is officially a few days into spring, and it certainly is showing! I am reminded of what a difference a couple of months can make, even in Venice, albeit subtly... distinctions between the seasons are naturally blurred in the island city, due to its relative lack of foliage. When living there a few years ago, I recall longing for the autumn colors of my youth in New England; here a browning sycamore murmured of winter's coming, there an ivy-clad wall erupted in a fleeting blaze of red. Then greyness, fog, and acqua alta set in, followed by the radiant, piercing light of December. The early months of the new year were intermittently veiled in mist, which gradually dissipated. And somehow the arrival of spring, with its unexpected blossoms, was more startlingly apparent. Take this courtyard for instance:

in febbraio..

... e poi in aprile!

I remember doing a distinct double-take when passing this courtyard again in April; the violet overflowing of wisteria and the yellow blooms on the well heralded the blessed commencement of springtime. In the meantime, much had changed in my life: I had let go of a complicated relationship, moved out of an unproductive living situation and into a new apartment on my own, and shared a portion of my Italian life with my father, who came to visit me for the first time. Everything was once again fertile, flowering, alive– within and without.

Who knows what will blossom this spring!

re-centering & summer hints...

Ciao a tutti! It has been quite some time since I've posted, and I wanted to let you all know that I've enabled comments, so leave me some love!


I have recently been plotting my next great European adventure (!!) which will be taking place this summer... here are a few hints: it will be starting with about a month in Germany––something new! And then I will venture south of the Alps to warmer climes and the indelible flavor of Italy in the summer. And... there will also be some time in a monastery involved.

In December I had a very vivid dream in which I spent a season in a monastery, after which I was ready and receptive for love to re-enter my life. Ever since I have been rather spellbound by this image, and though I can't just drop everything to run off to a cloister for three months, I have been craving the peace, simplicity, and solitude that this would give me, that it would help me to find within myself.

So often I am overcome by the insignificant worries of the mundane, caught up in the seeming drama of the quotidian happenings of my life: stressing about work, projects, deadlines, family, money, singleness, &c... It is so easy to loose focus! February has been a particularly difficult month in this regard; add on a few snowstorms (which were lovely while fresh, but then evolved into an awful nuisance! there is quite a difference between fluffy, newly fallen snow and the ice & slush that invariably follow), the demise of my favorite old winter boots, mopey feelings around Valentine's day, and giving up sweets and coffee for Lent (there is a bag of chocolates in my closet that is calling my name every five minutes or so).

What does all this mean for Stella? Time to recenter myself! I have been doing yoga every morning and night and taking this marvelous (though awful tasting) detox drink daily, and I can feel it working its magic. Add to that a beautiful box full of ruby red grapefruits, temple oranges, and honey tangerines courtesy of dear ol' Dad–– this should tide me over. I've also just joined a gym that is right around the corner from my apartment. It is time to make good on my new year's resolution to be in my body and honor the temple that it is!

 Here's to a wonderful March. :)

thank you, universe.

Some people just have big hearts, Stella. And with this gift they're very often able to feel, offer, and show far more love than they receive from those around them. Which, at times, is a heavy load to bear. So today I'd like to remind them, and especially you, that the sun asks not that the moon and planets help brighten each day, but relishes her role as a keeper of the light and a bringer of the dawn. A role much like your own.

Happy weekend, from the Sun and I -
The Universe

wanderlust and wonder.

"We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next, to find ourselves. We travel to open our hearts and eyes and learn more about the world… And we travel, in essence, to become young fools again—to slow time down and get taken in, and fall in love once more."

-Pico Iyer

http://www.salon.com/travel/feature/2000/03/18/why/

I am yearning to travel again, to pack the lightest suitcase in my closet and buy a plane ticket... there is so much that I love about traveling, particularly traveling alone, and not just about going to new (or well-loved) places, but about the actual process of transportation. To the surprise of many I adore airports: there so many lives converge in a singular moment in time, arriving from cities across the globe and then dispersing, on to the next adventure or business venture. The man in the seat beside me on the airplane may be returning to his hometown for the first time in years; the girl sitting across the aisle may be crossing the ocean for the first time in her life. So many different stories, emotions, desires, possibilities.

When I travel, I feel a great sense of freedom, as if I can inhabit any one of myriad states of consciousness. I can be whoever I decide to be. In this day and age, we cannot travel under an alias, and yet we can adopt a certain persona when we travel. We are surrounded by strangers, and all is unfamiliar. Gone are the bonds that remind us of who we, and others, think we must be. Travel is revivifying, exhilarating, liberating. I will admit it: at times, when boarding a Virgin Atlantic flight, I have adopted a British accent; on an Alitalia flight, I speak to the flight attendants in Italian. And what a thrill! I long to experience this again, and soon!

all is new!

Here's to 2010: may it be a year of love, light, and blessings.

This year my greatest project is to finally get in shape, and maintain it. Once my body is a fit channel, all other aspects of myself will function better as well, emotional, mental, spiritual. I want to truly be in my body, for it is the temple of the living God. I must honor it!

I will also meditate daily, to continually re-center myself upon that which is most important to me. This will be a year of striving to live my ideals every day. I must set the pattern now for the direction in which I want my life to move in the future, and I feel that great and marvelous things await me along my path: I must trust in the abundance of the universe, and honor the divinity within me.

I will practice emotional alchemy, transforming negative emotions into positive ones. The time has come to let go of all past sorrows; they have taught me beautiful lessons, and I am grateful for all that I have learned. I acknowledge that I needed to work through them in order to arrive in the place in which I stand today. But I must continue to move forward. I can no longer allow myself to rub salt in these old wounds, for they must finally heal. This is my true desire: to move towards wholeness through forgiveness and compassion, for others and myself.


With every day and the wonder, beauty, and challenge that it presents, I hope to grow in grace into the woman that I want to be.

The Light in the Piazza

Tonight I took myself out on a lovely date: octopus carpaccio and a glass of pugliese red wine, followed by the theater. I finally saw The Light in the Piazza, and it was lovely, lush, lyrical. And of course I was overcome with waves of nostalgia as my mind wandered back to Firenze, where I, too, first fell in love. What a time of wonder and discovery it was for me… so much hope, and joy, and light. And though it had to end, I wouldn’t trade one moment of it for the world. Some of the lyrics in the show spoke to me so vividly:

“This is wanting something, this is reaching for it,
This is wishing that a moment would arrive.
This is taking chances, this is almost touching what the beauty is…
This is wanting something, this is praying for it,
This is holding breath and keeping fingers crossed.
This is counting blessings, this is wondering when I’ll see that boy again.”

Well, not that boy—his ship sailed long ago, quite literally—but someone new. My heart is still full of hope. But until that time comes, I will continue taking myself out on dates as I did tonight!

girasoli.

"They are spectacular whilst in full bloom, they brilliantly colour the landscape for a few weeks but, soon after, when they begin to fade, there is a long, slow deterioration for at least a couple of months."

[http://www.tuscanyandumbria.typepad.com/]

on sunflowers. rings true on so many levels… when I read this my head spun for a moment, with echoes of memories of a fleeting and faraway time.

but I am here, now, and all is well in the world because I am living my dreams.
Ende der Geschichte. :)

la città eterna.

For some reason, when November comes around, I am always drawn back to my first visit to Rome...

gratitude.

As I walked home today, I reflected on just how blessed I am, and was overcome with gratitude. There are so many things that we take for granted. A beautiful body, an open heart, a sound mind, a pure spirit, for starters. Grace, so much grace that my cup veritably runs over with it. I know that I have earned it (if not in this life then in the last!) and yet that it is a gift from the universe to me. I must do the best that I can, here, now, with what I have, and trust that all that is destined to come to me will come.*

glorious autumn.

Through a lace-trimmed window...

Down a lovely little street...

 In a small, neighborhood park...

Along a Victorian row...

Wouldn't it be lovely to live there? :)

l'amore.

"Amatevi come compagni di viaggio, con questo pensiero d’avere a lasciarvi, e con la speranza di ritrovarvi per sempre."

—A. Manzoni, I Promessi sposi

shadows of love, or some semblance thereof.

It is [and has always been] about the experience. Let go, and don't be afraid.

So I had a rather startling and yet obvious thought tonight: I was dwelling on the heaviness in my heart, on the void that I have felt since the end of my first love, shadows of which have lingered on. And then I asked myself: what is it that I truly miss? Is it him? Am I not over him? It's not about him. It hasn't been in a long time. Perhaps it never was. What I miss is how I felt, who I became when I was with him. It's about me: about who I was, who I became, who I wanted to be, who I became instead, who I then wanted to be, who I am, and who I want to be[come].

I have not yet been able to separate Stella from Elliott, from "Stelliot"; and I must, for the time has come to move along. It's not about him any longer, it's about getting the most out of the experience, receiving and honoring the gifts that it has given me by letting go and retaining all of the wonder, the openness, the grace, the courage to love again and more deeply.

So what is it that I want to take away from this first love? What gifts has it given me? Firstly, it gave me a glimpse of what love can and will one day be, a small taste of the wondrous future that the hand of destiny has in store for me. If not for this experience, I would not have known anything of romantic love. It also helped me to open my heart and to truly wear it on my sleeve for the first time in my life. It taught me that I am open and genuine, and that my heart is full of hope, and that this is my true nature. I even learned from it that I am funny! I learned that I am a rock for others, and must extend this to myself. I began to know who I am in relationship; both the positive and the negative.

And it taught me not to cling, not to fight destiny, to be honest with myself and not to romanticize. It taught me that I cannot wish or will another to change, and that I cannot be angered or hurt by the incapacities and the limitations of another.

And lastly, most importantly, I am learning to let go of all of the hopes, dreams, expectations, projections, idealizations, romanticizations, to break free from their fetters, and to walk forward alone, just me, just Stellina. A new little star that is no longer dependant upon any external source to be her strength, her rock, her shelter, her support system-- for she knows that it is all within her open, genuine, hope-full heart.*

magnetic poetry!

composed on the fridge last night, in Wesley and Alan's apartment in London:


loss

after the autumn
those dreams would come
like a sweet flood
     like a sound from far away

only a wise lone heart
could see rose & gold
in the dark
     once our hour was gone.

knowingness.

What a momentous time this is in my life. I see many possible pathways before me, and will choose one within the next month or two (or few...), one which may very well be the beginning of my professional career. Whether it is pursuing a PhD, or teaching, or even working nine-to-five, it will be the next step along my journey. And the fact that all is still so open, so full of potential and possibility is so exciting! This openness can also disguise itself as a dark sort of uncertainty when fear enters in, yet now I am peaceful, hopeful, expectant, trusting. For I know that I am always in the right place at the right time, and that the challenges that I am facing are necessary for my own growth. I accept them, and am learning to welcome and embrace them, for they are the means by which I am tested, by which I test myself.

And thus, although some doors are being closed to me, I shall not worry--for others are being opened. I could be in any one of so many positions next year. I have many options, many talents, many skills, and must only apply myself now in setting the pattern for what is to become the next chapter of my life.

Today I had a wonderful thought: who & where & what I am at this moment in time is the sum of all my past experiences, and thus in a sense each and every one of those experiences was necessary to bring me to where I stand now. I see the tiny building blocks coming together. And similarly, some day in the future, I will look back once again and see how all of my life experiences from this point on converged serendipitously, carefully choreographed by the will of God (through the semblance of my own will), to bring me to the precise place, identity, state-of-being that I shall then inhabit. In retrospect I will see how the pieces came together to form the whole, and all of my inconsequential worries about the 'uncertain future' will be remembered wisely with a chuckle and a knowing smile. I will wonder how I ever managed to worry about the graceful path that lay before me, simply because I couldn't see beyond the horizon. Thus, here and now, I have faith that I will be where I need to be, doing what I need to be doing. Quello che deve venire, verrà. *

primavera.

Outside a blanket of snow covers the chilled earth. And yet, this morning, I was greeted by the chirping of birds outside my window. I drew back the curtains and observed. Two cardinals perched upon a long branch in the fir tree; chickadees dashed about in circles, finally landing on the yew hedge below. They sang to me, "even in the midst of winter, spring will come again." It is not as far off as I make it out to be. The ice will thaw, as I will let go. It is inevitable. And thus I must stop fighting the flow of nature. I have witnessed the winter of my grief in ebbs and flows of peace and pain, and though the snow lingers still, this, too, shall pass.

Now, I am ready. Ready to let go. To let go of the fear, and to fly. To leap from my branch in a brilliant flash of red and to call out to the past, "we will meet again, but then I will be changed." And not merely that: all will be changed. I will be a new person, and this will be a new earth upon which we walk. Well-trodden streets will curve into new alleyways, and familiar sunsets will take on a new light. A light that will reflect in my eyes for years to come, when these tears have long passed.

I am ready.