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Sunlight

This morning I needed to leave the house. I wanted to go sit somewhere sunny and read for a while. So I debated, upon stepping out of my door, if I should turn right toward Piazza S.S. Annunziata, or if I should head left toward a handful of other piazzas. I let my feet lead, and they turned left. So I got the idea to go to my favorite piazza, Piazza della Signoria. I love the openness of this one, the beauty of the statues dancing in frozen motion, and the fountain. There is so much space there, that one feels that anything is possible. But when I arrived, as I should have known, the buildings were shading the entire area. So I kept on, with the idea of sitting in the vast amount of space in front of Palazzo Pitti. Then again, as I soon realized, Palazzo Pitti was blocking all of the sun as well. My feet led me, though not by choice, to Piazza Santo Spirito, where I sat on a bench for a while bundled up and reading. As I was debating returning to the other side of the Arno River, a bit of sun peeped over the building. So I stayed.

 

I stayed for some time, and as the sun became more pronounced, spilling down the steps of the church, I felt more peace. I walked to one of my favorite places, a Fornaio around the corner and bought a piece of focaccia drenched in olive oil and covered in potatoes and rosemary. I then made my way to the church steps, where I sat in sunlight, slowly eating and dreaming. After I had cleaned the last bit of oil from my fingers, I picked up my book and began to read and listen to life around me.

 

A homeless man asked me for a cigarette. After telling him that I don’t smoke, he came over and began talking to me. It seems that, especially when I am feeling a little low, I must carry a sign on me, asking men I don’t know to talk to me. We chatted a little and then he left me to my book. Awhile later, he returned to chat and asked me to be his English teacher. He wanted to become friends and also wanted my phone number. I told him we could become friends, but I wasn’t going to give my phone number. Instead, we would have to run into each other the old fashioned way- through fate. If the universe causes our paths to cross again, then so be it. And if not, so be it. I am tired of giving my phone number to strangers, no matter how nice they may seem. I am taking steps to making myself stronger, and it’s a journey that cannot be speckled with phone calls.

 

When I left to return home and help my friend move into a new place, I was thinking about this connection I had participated in. It makes sense to me, that now, while I am emotionally homeless, I should connect with those who are physically so. In that way, Life winks to us and lets us know that even when we are battered and broken, we are alive.

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1 Comment

  • Reply Tina

    Girl, you are wise.

    This was really enjoyable to read, I felt like I was walking in Florence!

    January 13, 2009 at 4:50 pm
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