The sweetness of doing nothing
The beauty of slowing down
Hi friends,
Ally was between jobs early this month, so we made a spontaneous trip to Italy. The goal was to to find her distant cousins and, surprisingly, it didn’t take long. Midway through our 10-day visit, we arrived at a small village north of Bari (southeast coast) and ran into a man walking his dog. Ally showed him photos of her relatives. While he didn’t know them, he recognized the last name (Morea) and called a local resident, Antonio, with that last name.
In came Antonio with his truck. Turns out, he happens to be one of Ally’s cousins. This realization brought a smile to his face and because he had learned we came from the US and had that Morea (Ally) name, he had us hop in his back seat and drove us to a nearby home to meet more of her family. Within half an hour, we were sitting together at their dining room table eating lunch.
Later in the afternoon, Ally spoke Italian with her newly-met relatives to connect the dots. We walked around the town, visited the waterfront, and shared a few meals together over about 30 hours. A masterclass in hospitality and a reflection of how much family connections are valued there.
Other notes from Italy…
One of my favorite Italian sayings is "Dolce far Niente" which means "the sweetness of doing nothing." It does not mean being lazy; it’s referring to the pleasure one gets from being idle. It’s designed to help remind us to find pleasure in the everyday. Scolling on social media isn’t dolce far niente. Neither is guilt around “to-do” lists and busyness. We found many residents truly savor their meals and company with others. People seem to walker slower there, perhaps to take in the beauty around them. A healthy reminder in our distracted times: Sometimes, the best thing we can do for our soul is not much at all. How can you incorporate more idlness in your life?
From fresh ravioli in Florence to risotto with seafood in Naples to spaghetti with clams in Bari, we appreciated the food. Most meals were works of art carefully cooked and presented. The Italian art, architecture, language, and scenery also left lasting impressions:
Michelangelo's work on the Sistine Chapel ceiling took four years, a lesson in patience and attention to detail. Despite his tremendous skill as an artist, he wrote to a friend: “My painting is dead…I am in the wrong place. I am not a painter.” He felt he was not good enough to do the job given to him by Pope Julius II. But Michelangelo couldn’t refuse the Pope, so he began work on the ceiling, which became one of the greatest pieces of art humanity has created. “Genius is eternal patience,” he once said. “If people knew how hard I worked to get my mastery, it wouldn't seem so wonderful at all.”
Speaking of self doubt: Lastly, from a recent visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, I was struck by Van Gogh’s “Roses” which he painted in May 1890. Roses was painted shortly before Van Gogh's release from an asylum. According to the National Gallery of Art, he felt he was coming to terms with his illness—and himself. In this healing process, painting was all–important. During those final three weeks of his recovery, he wrote his brother Theo, he had "worked as in a frenzy. Great bunches of flowers, violet irises, big bouquets of roses..." Just two months later, he took his own life at age 37.
He saw all blossoming plants as celebrations of birth and renewal—as full of life.
Two parting thoughts to share…
Tony, our building handyman, custodian, and proud Jamacian said the other day: “Don’t think about the time, enjoy the time. Treat yourself while you’re still alive.”
The human heart beats about 4,000 times per hour and each pulse, each throb, each palpation is a trophy engraved with the words, “You are still alive.” (Rudy Francisco)
Celebrate your gifts,
Matthew
Wonderfully written and positively necessary. One can't be reminded of this enough.
This is wonderful. All great thoughts. And yes, Italy is fantastic in so many ways. Loved Florence and Amalfi coast. Spectacular.