Inspiration

I had the pleasure of seeing Jody's Frog Sanctuary this past Sunday!

Life is Funny Like That

A few months ago I got pulled over for the first time and got my first ever speeding ticket.  On my way to the destination that morning, someone was driving absolutely erratically; weaving in and out of traffic, cutting people off, speeding and riding asses.  At the same time someone else was driving towards me on the wrong side of the road; if I were a mere few seconds later the person would have driven into me.  I was shaken up, I thought to myself, where are the police when you need them?  Sure enough, down that road, coming down a hill, I got waved down by a pesky copper.   I got busted going 20-something over the speed limit.  I have since driven that same route, a few times with another passenger, and there is not a single speed limit sign to show that the speed limit drops from 60 to 50.  I was clocked coming down a hill.  I was upset at this $109 (some odd dollars) speeding ticket.  There are so many horribly insensitive aggressive drivers on the road.  My ticket was uncalled for.  I am not saying I am above the law, but I am not a threat to society.  These laws were made to aid the public, not make life harder on them.  I took this particular day to heart because I was already feeling beat up and let down by life and society.  The fine, was the icing on the shitty cake. 

I ended up fighting the ticket.  It caused extra stress but I am happy I did it.  I  got my fine reduced and no demerit points were added to my insurance.  I have so many reasons as to why I do not deserve that ticket.  It got me questioning the system even more, this ever so failing system that we keep protecting.  A pig sitting at the bottom of a hill is not protecting society from real criminals, what those “officers” are doing is raising simple people’s insurance rates.  They are burdening our court system with meaningless counsels.  You know, after 12 years of driving and never having a ticket or causing an accident, my insurance rates could have gone up for not holding onto the breaks while gravity (not the gas pedal) took me down a hill.  It is not as if my insurance will ever go down for good behaviour, so why should it go up for one slip up?  I was not having it.  I deem this unacceptable.  I encourage everyone to fight their useless tickets on the grounds of entrapment and capitalism.

I could go on but this was 2 months ago and I am over it.

It was a long and cold winter, the longest and coldest ever.  A year ago I was travelling and conquering; during the past winter I felt like I slipped back into the dark ages.  Applying to jobs and getting nothing.   Work slowing down; feeling helpless to the matter.  Dreaming so big and feeling hopeless by reality checks .  However, my relationships grew stronger.  My relationship with my parents is better than it has ever been.  My boyfriend is the sweetest man on earth.  My friendships deepening with love and gratitude.  I finally found a school that peeked my interest. 

The week of my 29^th birthday, everything changed.  I fought that speeding ticket and won.  I had a job interview, that I did not get, but that made me feel good about myself.  I went to the Institute of Holistic Nutrition and acted as student for the day.  I invited a few friends over to celebrate my birthday, with no expectations and not much thought into it, and it was the best birthday of my entire life to date.  Everyone made me feel so special and loved; it warms my heart like nothing else.

Since then I enrolled in said school.  I am now officially heading back to school full time in September.

I got asked to fill in as Head of Wardrobe at the theatre I had been trying to find work with (obtaining a short contract 2 years ago) for the past 4 years.  They offered me a full time position as Production Assistant.  My life has done a complete flip turn upside down from how dreary I felt during those winter months.  To have this incredibly uplifting job in this magical little town is all I ever wanted.  It’s funny how life works, as soon as I had given up and decided to take another course in life, it was finally handed to me.   It has been tough staying true to myself and my values, but it has finally paid off.  I am reaping that which I have sewn over the years and it is better than imagined.  I feel respected and appreciated in the work that I am doing and the study that I will throw myself into come fall. 

Life is Grand.  In the last two days I have learned some major carpentry skills and I cannot wait to share all the wonderful little creations that me and the team of wonderful and creative human beings are conjuring up all in the name of magic and fantasy.

I Gotta Get Out Of This Place

Waiting for my ride back to the beautiful lake side town where I will be residing for 4 months with only a bicycle and my walking feet as my form of transportation.  I have been there for 2 weeks already and I gotta say, I have trouble adjusting into the city life very quickly.  I am done with the city.  I have had enough of the city.  I have a lot to say on this topic...

Earth Day

As many know, yesterday was "Earth Day".  Instead of taking the route of bashing that "everyday should be earth day" and that designating only one day to the Earth (or likewise one day to your Mother, or one day to be happy of your birth, or one month to remember a part of history) is ridiculous and insignificant I would rather be positive about it.  Skepticism can become an excuse to not do anything; to throw important reminders aside because the cause is so much more worthy than what time it is allotted on your calender.  Let's be honest, most people need reminders.  Even as someone who loves the Earth as much as I do, I am not exempt from this reminder.  I would much rather enjoy the designated Earth Day and focus my attention on just that.  I gotta admit, I hate having to write discretion's and explanations as to where my motives lie.  Writing a blog and sharing things that I do can take away from remaining humble in the eyes of the reader however I do not seek attention from anything I share, merely I enjoy actively sharing experiences and bridging the gap between human connections.

Currently, my boyfriend lives in Brampton in a basement apartment.  The apartment itself is a nice size, bigger than many condos up for sale in the G.T.A. at a price point of $300,000.  However, the people upstairs make me sad.  The past 8 months has been my first experience with basement apartments.  It is very close to living with strangers that do not share a single thing in common with you.  As many people may have experienced if they ever had roommates or lived with a partner or family, even when you love the people in your home, it is hard to see eye to eye on everything.  These people upstairs are not even that bad.  I could picture a million more things that could be wrong with the situation, but the mere few problems hurt my soul.  I have learned a lesson from this though:  I must work on my own inability to cope with negative energies around me; to find peace in chaos, after all, that is the true essence of peace.

I will mention, but not get too deeply into the way the mother upstairs berates her 5 year old child daily.  Perhaps someone could enlighten me on why there would ever be a reason to scream at the top of your lungs to a small child that she is stupid?  I think about it everyday.  I have even made up excuses for the woman involved.  I have heard her and her husband fight and call each other horrible names, I know the mother is taking her own inner pain out on her child.  But it does not make it right.

My story today is about the garbage build up.  It started with fast food things falling out (or being tossed out) of their vehicles onto the driveway.  Then newspapers being left outside to the wind.  Random beer caps and cigarette butts.  Empties being piled up outside the back door.  Mail not being removed from the mail box.  Eventually they started tossing full garbage bags out the back door onto the lawn.  The garbage is piling up at this moment.  The garbage is being blown by the wind so now every time I go to see my boyfriend I have to walk through a barricade of their trash to get to the door.  I wanted to knock on their door on Earth Day wearing gloves and garbage bags in hand saying, "Hey guys!  Happy Earth Day!  I will help you clean up your crap, let's go!"

Frankly put, I wimped out.  These people spend half their time yelling at each other or their 5 year old daughter, why should I be exempt?  So instead I decided that in honour of Earth Day I will be the change that I want to see in them.  I put on a bright yellow glove and picked up every piece of trash along the driveway.  I scoured the front yard and found random things like full ketchup packages to throw in the bag.  The back yard, the worst of the situation, became too much for one person with a yellow glove.  The garbage bags have been torn open and I was finding bones strewn all over the yard. I picked up as much as I could fit in the bag, tied a knot and placed it in my boyfriends trash bin.  The "man" who lives in the house was home the entire time.  I am not sure if he saw me but I was sincerely afraid of him yelling at me for picking up his trash.  The saddest part about the situation is that I cringe when I head over to Brampton to spend time with me boyfriend because it hurts my heart to see people who show no respect to Mother Earth, let alone respect to each other.

Do I dare say what is really bothering me about local environmental issues?

I do.  I will.

It is hard to admit without ridicule but I am going to throw it out there regardless.

As a child, growing up in a multicultural city was educational and interesting.  My most bestest (I know this is not a word I chose to use it anyway) friends in the world were not born in the same country as I, that which we all now reside.  I loved going over to others' homes and trying new foods and seeing cultural differences.  I am grateful for being exposed to so many cultures at a young age and to this day.  I love that both sides of my family have different traditions and I got to experience two totally different worlds when visiting my Grandparents.  Unfortunately a pattern that I dislike has been occurring for years now.  I have seen time and time again that many immigrants do not seem to give a flying fiddler's fart about the environment.

When I was a child I used to spend quite a bit of time with my Grandma and Grandpa.  They were both born in the Norfolk County Area and still live there to this day.  I still remember vividly my Grandpa picking up any trash he would see on the ground.  He never told me I had to pick it up but I always remembered how he never once complained that it was not his trash and therefore not his responsibility to get rid of it.  Keeping our environment clean came so natural to my Grandparents.  There was no need to teach cleaning up in school.  Even dog's don't shit where they sleep.  Taking care of your surroundings is the true sense of human pride.  We are born of this Earth, we will die and go back into it.  The Earth is a part of us.  When people say we are children of god, I understand it to be We are children of the Earth.

Since the snow has melted the accumulation of trash around the creek in the neighborhood is not only disrespectful but shameful.  There are garbage, and newly added recycle, bins scattered all along the path running parallel with the creek.  I cannot fathom why anyone would decide to throw their trash on the ground instead of in a bin.  I decided that I would bring a couple of bags with me on this Earth Day and pick up the trash.  I will be honest, if it wasn't Earth Day, I would not have thought about this simple action of cleaning up the creek.  I put my ego aside, the part of me that knows that it was not me who contributed to this mess, and just do it for the sake of Mother Earth to show respect to what is most important to me.

Overall, picking up trash was a positive experience.  It virtually took no effort.  It was a beautiful sunny day, I picked up some trash with yellow gloves and I saw a big difference.  It was pretty much the least I could do.  How hard is it to pick up some things off the ground?  However, prevention takes even less effort.  Smarten up people, I for one am not becoming more tolerable to these discrepancies around me.  I am becoming less fearful of the reaction of others.  I might one day kick you in the nuts for throwing your trash in the creek or screaming at your innocent child.  I care about the quality of life for all, even those who are destroying it for all, there are no exceptions.  The worst trash that I picked up was from someone or some people who had been picking up their dog's shit in a plastic bag, tying a knot in the bag and then tossing it off to the side.  I found numerous of these shit filled bags adjacent to garbage bins.  What The Fuck?  It would be better to just leave the crap on the ground because at least it will decompose back into the earth.  But to put it in a plastic bag and tie it so that the poop can macerate in a plastic bag for years and become more and more gross is just mind blowing!

I had a favourite moment on Monday afternoon.  I did receive many smiles and nods from people passing by which I hope might make people maybe take part next year.  The moment however was from the school children across the creek.  When I first started on our walk I could see the trash build up on the other side of the creek where the school yard is.  I remembered as a child being taken out on Earth Day to clean up our yard.  I wondered if the kids were still doing that?  On the way back a whole class of kids were cleaning up the other side and I can tell you it made a huge difference and it took place within minutes.  A little girl saw me on the other side and smiled and waved; I smiled and waved back.  It was a moment of human connection that is not as rare as we so often think.

Namaste

The Present

One year left of my 20's.  What does this mean?  Does it mean anything?  Well sure it means that a decade is almost up.  But it also means a decade will soon be starting again.  A new chapter if you will.  It is nice to think of this next year as the final chapter of my 20's.  After all, life is but a book.

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” – St. Augustine

I would definitely say that the climax of the last 9 years was my travel through Europe.  The pinnacle of my 20's if you please.  Everything lead up to that adventure.  It meant the world to me.  It still does. I feel like the last chapter, everything since the climax, has been truly a descent.  Not in a negative way though.  While life has not been as exciting, it still has been extremely changing and necessary.  It's like reaching the top of a mountain: it took 8 days to get up there but only 2 to get down.  In order for me to reach the next mountain top I first have to come down of the last and descend into the valley.

In my post entitled "volcano" I spoke about a difficult time and how that time triggered a past hurt.  I wrote about that event because I was again, going through an emotional week.  I was trying to figure out why I was feeling so down and as I brainstormed I realized that it was exactly a year ago when I had that emotional break down in Sicily.  It made me question the reasons for it even more so.  What were the similarities and why was I going through it again?

I have been reading a lot this past year.  Specifically, getting in tune with my spiritual side.  I have been changing my diet and practicing yoga regularly   These are things that raise your frequency and help to open your pineal gland also known as the third eye.  A year ago, I had no use for chakras.  This year, I think about them everyday.  If I cannot sleep at night I meditate on specific colours and find calmness until I sleep.  I have come to terms with how vivid my dreams are and to take special note to them.  I am no longer ashamed to admit that this stuff, this so called wacky hippie shit, intrigues me.

I have always had a keen interest in human psychology.  I am my number one patient.  I have been aware of my coping mechanisms and how I deal with things since early childhood, even if I haven't always been able to control or change my behaviour at times.  I am at least aware.  With awareness comes understanding and accepting and then learning which brings change.  So when I re-tell a story, it is my way of letting it go so that I can move on.  The key to wellness is letting go of the past.  Even if we look back on our past with fondness, we are still then comparing it to the now and trying to live up to a "better time".  What I am still continually trying to remind myself is to stay in the present moment.  To not anticipate the future and to not let the past hold me back.  Life is about the PRESENT.

“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That's why we call it the present.” 

― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

How can one let go of the past if they do not fully understand the lesson that it was meant to teach you?  The best example I can give is myself.  Last year as I was having a mental breakdown, I felt burdened by events of my past which only added to my pain.  Even after writing it out and analyzing the parallels between all the circumstances I was still left feeling sad and unhappy.  I was still sitting in my room trying to understand where this deep rooted sadness came from?  I first recognized it when I was a child and it became more prominent in my teens.  It then came back in my early twenties.  It never went anywhere it merely remained dormant for a short while.  Like a volcano.

The other night I read a chapter in Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth Awakening to Your Life's Purpose about the "pain-body".  A few weeks prior my little Earth Angel gave me a book about Earth Angel's which also spoke about this same subject.  It all came very clear to me.  To fully explain however, I feel like I need to also retell the story of my first week in Spain.  After that emotional week in Sicily, I jumped on a plane and landed in Seville, Spain...  so the story goes...

My first night in Spain was by far thee hardest travel day of my 3 months on the road.  It was the first and only time that I actually got lost on my way to the hostel.  I had the bus number written in my little red book that would drop me off at "Plaze del Duque".  My plane arrived around 8pm.  By the time I got to the appropriate bus stop the sun was down.  I got on the right bus and just to make sure I asked the driver if this bus would indeed drop me of at "plaza del duke" (that is how I pronounced it).  The bus driver did not understand me and was quite rude about it.  I showed him the writing in my book in case I pronounced it wrong.  He sighs, "oh plaza del duque" (pronounced doo-kay) and then once again rudely shook his head and tried to shun me off on my way.  The passenger behind me chimed in and explained that because of the parades the bus would not be going that way.  "Parades?" I said confusingly.  I had no other directions so I smiled and tried to give him my money for the fare regardless and figured I could at least get close enough and walk the rest of the way.  He would not accept my money, I had no choice but to get off the bus.  

I got on the next bus and I had no clue where it was taking me.  As the people on the bus started to filter out I started feeling panic set in.  It was nearing 10 pm at this point and I was lost.  A woman sitting close to me could sense my worry.  She looked at me and in English asked me if I was lost.  I sighed such a relief knowing I  could at least communicate with her.  I told her I was indeed lost.  She said that I could come back with her to her apartment and she would lend me a map.  I did not take her up on the offer though, in my head I was thinking I could just stay on the bus and hopefully it would just loop around and go back to where I had started and I could try again.  The bus was nearing her stop and so she had to go.  But before getting off she spoke to a young boy who was sitting next to her.  She said he would help me and got off the bus.  This young man could not speak english so he got out his phone and used it to interpret spanish into english.  He showed me the screen and it said "Follow Me."

What was I to do?  This guy can see that I am scared and lost.  I am the perfect person to kidnap at the moment.  Do I trust him?  The bus comes to a stop and then suddenly a song comes over the speaker.  There was no music playing until this exact moment.  This was the song:

       

I decide that the song is a sign.  I follow him.  Through the phone he lets me know it's going to be a long walk.  I nod and carry on.  We are walking fast, there are many people on the streets.  We are going down alleys and crossing streets, all the while I am thinking he could very well lead me into a dead end alley and kill me.  But I trek on.  He even asks people passing by for directions and ever so politely says "gracious" except this is the first time I hear the Spain pronunciation of thank you.  It is pronounced "glathious".  I honestly thought he was either gay or had a lisp.  I later learned that I am an ignorant north american and now I actually pronounce gracious the way of the Spaniards because the language originates there however I digress...

We start making our way into a more central area.  That is when my jaw drops.  I see the KKK marching down the street.  (The white capes and pointy hats originate in Spain, by the way, so the American racist group are not actually affiliated in fact they stole the look from priests.)  I look at him and he sees my astonishment.  As we try and make our way closer to the address in my little red book we are stopped by parades and crowds of people down every street.  I thank him over and over again for bringing me this far and he carries on to probably meet his family or friends to celebrate.  I learn the hard way that I just happened to land into Seville on the biggest celebration day in all of Spain.  Seville celebrates Easter like no other place in the world.  My timing for landing in that particular place at that exact time was crazy, bizarre, insane, and above all else, unforgettable.

In North America, we are so quick to forget what Easter is truly about.  Jesus is the reason for the season.  The Universe decided that I needed a reminder.  So here I am in Seville, lost and confused, carrying my life on my shoulders.  I am hungry.  I am tired.  I am heading down street after street only to be bombarded with crowds of people and the image of Jesus carrying his cross.  In Spain, everyone gets an entire week off of work or school to take it to the streets and remember what Jesus went through about 2000 years ago.  Every night there is a parade with intricate statues and intense marching bands circling the streets.  They go on until the sun comes up, for a whole week.  That Wednesday just happened to be the most important day and also the biggest parade day.  I am carrying my back pack and he is carrying his cross.  We keep running into each other around every corner, there is no escape.

Eventually I have to stop to get food.  I need to sit and rest.  I am pissing off the people who are celebrating and mourning by trying to push through the crowd with this enormous rucksack on my back.  I find a little pizza joint.  It is packed.  I ask for a slice to go and I take it outside and sit next to a fountain in the square.  I gobble that meal up and asses the situation.  At this point, I do know in which direction my hostel is in but I have to figure out a way to get past a parade.  After my rest, I get up and try and walk a few blocks over and then back inwards, hoping to get around the crowds.  I find myself by a park and I see a dude with his motorcycle.  I decide to ask him where I am.  He looks like my friend Raff so I immediately feel comfortable.  Bonus, he speaks English!  He pulls out his phone we type in the address of my hostel and sure enough it is literally 1 minute away down the next street!  I am thrilled!  I skip away and see the hostel sign and could literally kiss the ground at this point.

It is now midnight as I check in.  I could continue on with this story at this point but everything will just tie into the next day and the next and I will sit here all night re-telling my time in Spain!  

I had a real reminder that week about the life of Jesus.  I am not a religious person.  I have said for a long time I feel that Jesus is just a dude like you or me and that by idolizing him we are pretty much making an excuse to not be as good as him.  I feel that we could all be peaceful and loving and caring just like Jesus.  He was hung on a cross for being just that, a peaceful and kind human being.  Even worse still, wars and murder have gone on the last 2000 years in his name.  People have used him to gain control over others.  Most people who worship Jesus, do it so painfully wrong.  How his message got flip turned upside down over the years is beyond my understanding.

What I have learned these last few weeks is that we all carry the pain from the beginning of our time in our DNA.  It is embedded in us.  Eckhart suggests in his book that it is why babies come out of the wound kicking and screaming.  The most sensitive and loving people often become drug addicts and abusive because we are all dealing with centuries of pain, and it is still going on to this very day.  Rape, murder, abuse, ridicule, judgement, the list goes on.  One thing I have noticed the last few years, the older I get the more sensitive I get to the pain of others.  I can't take it anymore.  However, learning that we all have it inside us helps me to understand.  Hopefully with understanding every single one of us can learn to let go of our pain-body's.  Pain from the past lingers.  It is in the air.  You can feel it when you enter certain places where true evil could possibly have taken place in the past.  We feel it around certain people who are holding grudges or are particularly angry often.  The pain is often heavier in certain cultures and especially in woman.  During the Spanish Inquisition, woman were accused of witchcraft and burned alive for merely walking barefoot in the grass.

The point now is to let go of not just our own personal past, our stories, but to also let go of what humans have done to each other since the beginning of time.  Look to the present.  Look to now.  I refuse to accept that it is human nature to be so unkind to each other.  It is time to change this.  I am not perfect because I see the parallels I am still fighting that which is inside that wants to feed off of pain.  I will keep trying to learn and change as I grow.

       "Forgive the past. It is over. Learn from it and let go. People are constantly changing and growing. Do not cling to a limited, disconnected, negative image of a person in the past. See that person now. Your relationship is always alive and changing.”

— Brian L. Weiss, Messages from the Masters: Tapping Into the Power of Love

One Love

Sicilian Folklore

The story of Nicola

Nicola was a little boy from Sicily who lived by the sea.  He loved swimming so much he would spend every day out in the water.  Every night his mother would call out to him when dinner time approached "Coooooolllaaaaa!"  She would shout until he found his way back home.  The kids in his town would often make fun of him, he had no true friends.  His whole childhood was spent in the sea.  He was able to stay under water for long periods of time, all day even.  Eventually he even developed webbed feet and gills like that of a fish.  This of course, only caused more teasing from his peers.

As he grew older, his fondness for the sea grew stronger.  Sometimes he would be gone for days even.  One day the King of Sicily got word of his special gift of being such a strong swimmer.  He came to Cola and explained that Sicily and all it's people were in great danger.  You see, back then, Sicilians believed that Sicily was being held up by large posts.  Over time, the posts were beginning to erode.  The King asked Cola if he would come on this special mission with him and Cola obliged.  The King took Cola out far deep into the Sea and asked him to swim as deep as possible to see if the posts were failing and if Sicily would soon sink under water.  

Cola agreed and dove deep under the Sea.  But, he never returned.  The people of Sicily believe that there are three possible outcomes to this story.  Did Cola find the broken post and stay under water forever, holding Sicily up and thus being a hero and saving it from sinking?  Did Cola go too deep and be taken away lost forever in the Sea?  Or did Cola eventually turn fully into a fish and swam away, becoming free from society's demands and ridicule?  

I was told this folklore on my last night in Alcamo while hanging out at the natural Termo's.  Of course I cannot tell it as good as Massimo who is from Sicily and who's grandparents told him the story that was passed down from generation to generation.  After he finished we discussed the outcome.  My friends believed that Cola was still under the Sea holding up Sicily and saving it from sinking.  To them, this made him the hero.  But I thought otherwise.  I hope that he swam away and is free, instead of holding the weight of the world on his shoulders for people who never made him feel welcome or loved in the first place.  They thought my view was horrible and it takes away from Cola being a hero and turns him into a coward.  I disagree.  I think it is most courageous to chose freedom over enslavement.  The idea of him holding up the island forever and ever makes me sad.  The idea of him swimming away and becoming a fish makes me happy and that makes him more of a hero in my eyes.

Volcano

Exactly a year ago today, I was on my way from Napoli to Sicily.  It had been a dream of mine to go to Sicilia probably since I saw the Godfather for the first time.  I also drew inspiration from this ancient land from a book I read that I had found at a Salvation Army back in the day called, Olivo Oliva.  Sicily is just full of tradition and culture and surrounded by the crystal clear turquoise sea.  Before leaving to Europe, I had thought about designating a whole month to the land.  I would meet my friend, Pame, and we would rent a car and travel the whole soccer ball.  One thing led to another as time grew short so I was only able to give a week to that dream.  I conquered only a mere smidgen of the land but oh boy, was it ever spectacular and breathtaking   Absolutely stunning.  I would go back to Sicily in a heart beat.

I met Pame on an early Wednesday morning.  I had taken a night train to save from losing another day travelling.  I walked from the train station to meet her at an apartment she had rented the night before.  I came up to the address and buzzed, she poked her head out from the window up above.  And so our adventure began.  I could honestly write a script based upon that one day in Palermo alone. We walked the streets together looking for a specific something.  We had been travelling together through Athens but then separated for a week and a half; me to Santorini and her to Berlin.  We spent that entire day taking turns telling parts of our stories.  Everything surrounded around the one event that was leading us on this treasure hunt.  If I were to write this movie, I would call it "The Morning After" and it would resemble a Woody Allen film but be inspired by Before Sunrise.

A Postcard for Neener 

Palermo wasn't doing it for me.  I wanted to see the countryside, not another dirty Italian city with garbage heaps everywhere and men making passes as we walked down the street.  We found a farm to rent in a nearby town called Alcamo.  The ad stated "Holiday, Nature, Sea, Relax".  However I think it also said "fun" at the time but Massimo had since changed the ad.  It was a mere 20 Euros a night!  We jumped on a bus and headed to this town on the sea.  We arrived at a bus station near a park.  The sun was shining bright, it was warm as hell.  I went inside the small bus station/cafe and got me some pistachio gelato.  The boy serving it really scooped in that ice cream, it was practically over flowing.  Our host, Massimo, arrived right at that moment as I was devouring this mountain of a treat. We got into his little car and he took us to the farm.

We pull up to the gated house and I am already blown away.  In front was the hills and countryside that I had always dreamed of.  The farm was laced with lemon, fig, and olive trees.  Massimo had planted every single one of those trees with his Grandpa when he was just a boy.  The farm had an outdoor kitchen and a nice relaxing deck.  Pam and I agreed, that it would be so nice to just lay outside for the next few days and do absolutely nothing.  I pictured myself walking along the winding roads, picking flowers, making things out of nature.  She said that she would help me learn more Spanish as I was heading to Spain next.  Well my plans to relax didn't quite happen.

Massimo took us to the Termo's that very day.  The Termo is a natural hot spring.  It is off the beaten track; a place we never would have found without a local helping us.  It was really awesome to just chill out in that hot water.  Relax all the aching muscles from the journey thus far.  On the way back, we got some groceries from the market and Pame and I made a lovely dinner for two.  I even picked a lemon from the tree for the salad dressing.

That night we washed up and jumped into bed, about to watch Choclat, as Pam was absolutely appalled that I had never seen that film before.  But then Massimo and his friend Guisseppe showed up at our door ready to take us out on the town.  I really did not want to go but also did not want to be rude.  So I quickly got ready and obliged.  We went into the little town of Alcamo and got the largest beer I have ever seen in my life.  Guisseppe could not speak any English, I could not speak any Italian, Pamela is fluent in Spanish and could have a conversation in Italian, Massimo's English was great in my opinion.  Unfortunately, that night, not much English was spoken.  I felt like the odd man out.  It was difficult sitting at a table with people who are all laughing having a good time and I am sitting there like a lamb lost in the woods.  At that point, I really would have preferred to just be alone instead of faking a smile to accommodate their comfort.  The night was good though, it was lovely out and we saw some nice spots in Alcamo.  I was most happy to be home in bed at the end of the night.

The next day I woke up way earlier than Pamela.  My mind would wake up and that was that.  I enjoyed the morning to myself, showering and puttering around in the garden.  Eventually Massimo showed up to take us somewhere beautiful.  As much as I just wanted to hang out in the garden, I did not want to be a party pooper so off we went.  He first brought us to a cute little cafe where we got drinks and I got a very yummy pastry.  Massimo took us to the beach which is right in the back of the apartment he lives in.  I was in shock, I said this is what you see everyday!?  The beach has white sands stretching out as far as the eye can see.  The day was sunny and hot, we were in luck!  We did some yoga and went for a walk, I was in awe of how clear the water was.  Massimo and Pamela were goofing off and I was having this urge to just be alone.  I walked off from them to just do my thing.

Eventually the three of us were laying on the beach hanging out.  I was reading and Massimo was bugging me about it.  Telling me that reading was boring and he kept interrupting my story.  I was starting to get a bit annoyed.  I just wanted to do my thing; I love reading on the beach it is my favourite.  He went inside his apartment to change or shower or something and asked us to wait.  The wait was long.  We were in the sun, I was starting to feel myself losing it slightly.  I could feel the desire to to just be alone growing inside me.

Pame and I really wanted to find a place with wifi that day.  By the time we got into town nothing was open.  The boys really wanted to cook dinner for us so Massimo took us to pick up Guisseppe and we went to the market.  Little things started weighing on my patience.  It is unlike me to not be able to go with the flow, something was up but I didn't understand what yet.  Next thing, we were back at the farm ready to cook dinner.  I had mistook the dinner plans, I thought we were eating at either their places.  I felt a little bit like our privacy was being encroached upon.  I mean, we rented a private house and now visitors were coming over to cook.  I had left all my things lying around so I nervously tried to clean up a bit for them.  Dinner was good.  I was bad.  I felt my emotions getting ready to explode.  I was faking a smile as much as I could but deep down inside I felt absolute misery.  I did not eat much and I fought the tears back the entire dinner.

Afterwards, the boys were giving Pam a nice massage on the deck.  I snuck away to the back of the garden where no one could see me.  I sat in the dirt and I cried.  I cried and cried.  I dug my hands deep into the garden to feel the earth that I had so longed to feel.  I could hear Pame in the distance calling for me.  I did not want to worry her but I also just really wanted my moment in that garden to be private.  I had to come out of the garden and tell her that I was feeling highly emotional and I didn't know why.  She was understanding and supportive.

The next morning, I was up early again.  I discovered that choosing to not put sun screen on my legs was a bad idea.  My legs were as red as a tomatoe.  I found some sunglasses and put them on.  Pam got mad at me because they weren't mine.  I wasn't stealing them, I was just trying to hide my puffy eyes.  I felt tears already forming, I knew my mind was lost and I wasn't sure how I would get it back.      Massimo arrived and we were off on another adventure.  Massimo had suggested that they speak English to make me feel more like a part of the conversation, I thought that was a great idea but Pam just kept reverting back to Spanlian.  I put my headphones on.  I knew I was being antisocial but I was trying to do things that comfort me, to try and aid my emotional state.  That day I realized my issue with being helpless in a car.  When I am not in a healthy mind state, I have discovered that I can realize where my weaknesses lie.  When things from the past that I may not have fully dealt with come crawling back to haunt me.  Like the lava in a volcano waiting for eruption.

Massimo was always picking us up and taking us somewhere.  I didn't know where we were going and I did not have a choice in the matter.  I felt helpless.  To make things clear, Massimo is the nicest guy in the world.  Taking us places like that was so amazing of him, he asked for nothing in return.  At that time, I was just going through something emotionally and I felt even more guilty that I was not able to enjoy what he was doing for us and thus being unappreciative.  So my guilt just made me even more emotional.  My realization that day about being in a car and being helpless was a common theme of my past.  When I was a child my father often drank and drove.  He picked me up from school many times inebriated and I remember being very scared.  I was a child, I had no choice but to get in the swerving vehicle.  Later, after my dad had quit drinking for 5 years, he had relapsed and it was discovered while he was driving our family to the cottage.  It was the 1 year anniversary of when his father passed away.  It clearly effected him and he snuck some alcohol.  While in the car we noticed something wasn't right with him.  He was drunk.  We pulled over and my mom took the wheel.  I had a flood of memories that I had repressed since childhood come back at full speed.  It was a lot to handle.  It is the underlying cause to why I do not like feeling out of control and trapped while in a vehicle.

My first ex-boyfriend used to take the opportunity to yell at me while in his car.  He knew I could not walk away so when I would not expect it he would drive me somewhere and just start yelling at me.  I felt so helpless, I often thought of throwing myself out of the moving vehicle but I never did.  I would always end up crying and he would not let me go home until I stopped crying so that my parents would not know that he just berated me.  My second ex-boyfriend was a horrible driver.  He never wore his seat belt either.  He would smoke weed, talk on the cell phone, check out girls passing by, change the radio, and eat a sandwich all at the same time while driving.  Being in a car with him had me always on a constant alert.  He passed through stop signs on numerous occasions.  He made me feel very unsafe.

So here I am in Sicily, looking out the window at the most beautiful scenery and all I can think about is my past hurts because the situation is triggering my memory.  I did eventually snap out of it.  Guisseppe brought me a cigar that day and it really helped to calm my nerves.  We went to a lagoon like beach and it was so beautiful.  I swam in the Mediterranean Sea for the first time ever that day.  We also rode on a scooter.  Oh man I laughed so hard on that scooter.  There was 4 of us on it and Massimo was wearing a speedo and Pame could feel his junk bumping around on her back!  We were dying of laughter!  The boys joked that we would get to have free lunch that day, in jail.

We went to another beach along the way and also to a small village.  It was a great day.  I also realized that day why I was losing my mind.  I have a B12 deficiency.  I give myself monthly injections of B12.  While travelling, my doctor thought it would be best if I did not carry needles with me.  So I was taking daily B12 pills.  They weren't working and I realized that the hard way after I had been 6 weeks on the road.  We went searching for a pharmacy but could not find one that had what I needed.  Sicily is oldschool.  Massimo was feeling pretty bad, he thought I was not enjoying his beautiful homeland.  I told him that just was not the problem, I have a health issue and it is why I have been so distraught the last few days.  At this point Pame and I still hadn't had access to the internet.  I really wanted to let my parents know I was doing well and I also really needed to find a place to stay in Palermo for the one night I would be there before catching my plane to Seville.  Guisseppe brought over his laptop and we got to do our computer stuff.  Massimo called his friend who worked at a pharmacy and we explained my dire need for my B12 shot.

The next day he dropped us off into town and we of course had to wait hours for the pharmacy to open as it was Siesta.  I caved at that point and bought a pack of cigarettes.  They helped to calm me down and aid me.  I went into the pharmacy and got my medication.  We took it back to the farm.  I opened the package and it looked nothing like how it looks back at home!  The needle was way larger, I felt like I was in a cartoon and a nurse was pulling out a syringe and my eyes were popping out of my head.  The glass vile had to be broke and then mixed.  I had no clue what to do.  Massimo helped me and showed me how it was done.  I will say it again, Sicily is oldschool!  I managed to suck it up and get that long needle into my leg.  Within minutes I felt better.

It was our last night in Alcamo so we begged Massimo to take us back to the Termo's for one last night time dip.  It was lovely and I felt like myself again!  Sicilia really is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to.  I will go back one day and explore the rest of it.  I really wanted to visit Etna, and at that time the volcano was highly active.  The moral of this story is that sometimes adventures don't go as planned.  Sometimes the experience can by brutal and sad.  The point is to take even those bad experiences and hold them close to your heart and to understand that there is a lesson to be learned.  Even though my emotions took a hold of me that week and inhibited me from being happy; I look back and feel like I would not want it any other way.  I learned a lot from this experience and I had to lean on friends, both old and new, who showed me love and compassion.  For that I am grateful.