I arrived at this place at the edge of things; my profession, my health, my loves.

It’s not that they weren’t mine; I could see them, touch them, pull them out of the place they rest when I’m not using them.

It took conscious effort, a will to say: Yes. This is what I need today. This is what I am today.

I arrived at the edge of myself.

And then…

An elegant Tuscan sunrise; cherry jam that bursts in my mouth; Nikolai with his endless wine and unforgettable pasta. 

A snake in the grass; a dive in the pool; sweet, sweet, unhurried sleep.

Tears with new friends. A pink leather jacket. Gelato — oh, gelato.

A conquered hill; a dancing deer; grapes, majesty on the vine.

A horse I call my friend, rosemary in my hand, a new skill called ‘Synchro’.

A bee in a dandelion. Lizards with green backs.

This rock.

This breeze.

Oh, Italy.

My quiet mind is not afraid to speak, to share, to make room for the new. To love again.

My mouth worked its magic and conjured a spell, pulling me down, away from the edge and into a full and imperfect me.

Now I have this pen. This page. This remembered knowledge, this knowing.

I leave Tuscany quiet of mind,

full of heart,

loved and lovingly

whole.