the next horizon

I have spent the last two weeks sleeping on a yoga mat in a quiet, forgotten corner of Rome.
It's 4:00am and I await my taxi on the cobbled curb on Via di San Calepodio no. 7.

"Ciao."
"Ciao."
"Fiumicino, per favore."
"Prego."
"Grazie."

I watch contentedly as the streetlight shatters into the little black abysses between the cobblestones. As I leave Rome behind stars pierce the thick black curtain of the sky. A familiar and welcome sight in the midst of all this change. Today Israel is calling. I would say that today the real adventure begins but I am lately convinced that there is no adventure more real than the present moment. So this is just a change of scenery.

I have spent the last two weeks in the Eternal City and beyond, surrounded by art, beauty, and the fullness of life. I was reminded of my love for art and the way it continues to inspire and excite me. And in the case of the galleries of Florence, intimidate me.

On Il Isola di Capri I basked in the sun and again realized that few things bring peace to the depths of my soul like the sea. And I think I'm becoming less particular as to which sea. I watched God steal the sun into the sea and infect the sky with life and light night after night.

Throughout my days I was accompanied by the familiar smell of rain and voice of thunder, the beauteous universality of humor, and the equally beautiful cacophony of language. As the days wound down a slower tempo drifted from windows and curled around street corners. There was quiet in the noise and it felt like home.

But just as comfort finds me here under the dark Roman sky, Time reminds me that there is more. I am forever propelled onward by the potential of untold stories. Let us write well this story that is life.