The Rising of the Sun

I love sunrises so much more than sunsets. I wonder if there is a fundamental difference between those who prefer the rising of the sun and those who prefer its setting. The anticipation of what is to come vs. the reflection upon what has been. For me, it is always the anticipation. Every morning, I wake with optimism. Everything is better in the morning. If I could live my entire life bathed in the early morning light, I am pretty sure I would never want for anything...

[Thanks for the sunrise, Mark. It's perfetto!!]

Timing

It’s all about timing. Everything in life—every collision, epiphany, occurrence, and encounter—is about timing. When the time is right, the time is right. And when it’s wrong, it’s wrong.

One thing leads to another

Ever seen the movie Sliding Doors? [Yes, I’m using a movie reference. If you know me, you are likely falling out of your chair right now…but…it’s true. I saw a movie once…or twice.] It’s a terrible movie, but the concept isn’t. It essentially offers a look at two parallel scenarios—one in which the main character catches her intended train, and the other in which she misses it. Viewers get to see her parallel lives played out in tandem, and it’s amazing how different they are. Amazing because the differences can only be attributed to whether she catches the train or not.

I think very often about how life can be altered by seemingly insignificant movements. Turning left or turning right can entirely change the course of one’s life. Every decision (conscious or not), every right or left turn, every yes or no, has led me to where I am today. The computer I’m typing on, the chair I’m sitting in, the shoes on my feet, are all part of the puzzle.

During one of my early days in Italy last year, my friends and I (literally) stumbled upon an interesting-looking café/bar/internet spot in our Roman neighborhood. We thought, “Hmmm…this place looks cool. Let’s come back here sometime.” And we did. Again and again and again. As a matter of fact, it became my “third place” while I was in Rome. I spent a lot of time there—using the free wifi, visiting with friends, looking at magazines, drinking copious amounts of vodka e tonica. Ahhh…those were the days.

Today I am sitting at my home in Portland—an apartment I never imagined I’d be living in—and I can say with certainty that if I had not visited that Roman bar, I would not be here, in this apartment, over a year later. I can take the trail back further, but it can go on forever, and that is the point. One thing leads to another.

But back to the Roman bar, better known as Circus…

When worlds collide: The existence of that bar and the crazy Roman who owns it, and my “random” stumbling upon it, literally shaped my entire three months in Italy. Every single person I met can be traced back to Circus, in one way or another. Many of these people don’t even know of Circus, or its owner, but they are still connected to him, via me. I now have friends in Rome and the Amalfi Coast who I am still in contact with today…and I would know none of them if it weren’t for Circus.

As I’m preparing my mind (and my liver) for a return visit to Italy—where I will enjoy the company of many of these people again—I’m feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the existence of Circus, and the pazzo Romano who opened it. Which, in turn, leads me to an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything else—every left turn or right turn…even those that seemed like wrong turns. Because I know there is no such thing as a wrong turn. The only truth is that one thing leads to another.

Grazie mille, Paco!!! A presto…