I’m beginning to ease back into “normal” life after a ten-day anniversary trip to Italy. Ease being the key word. It’s the Italian way. It’s also the Sofie way.
La dolce vita (the sweet life) is alive and well in the land of my ancestors. For my husband and I, eating, drinking and relaxing was the point of our vacation. For the locals, that is the point. Period.
Shops and businesses (even banks and post offices) really do close between 1:00 and 3:00…and many don’t even open until after 9:00. As a tourist, I felt frustrated by this inconvenience—seeing a chiuso sign on the door of an interesting shop, knowing I wouldn’t be in the area when they returned. However, that frustration merely shielded jealousy over a country-wide, sanctioned two-hour midday break. How nice that would be in America!
Weekday afternoons in Italy saw men and women leaving offices to stroll the cobblestone streets and chat animatedly while licking gelatos. Lovers met and snuggled on park benches. People lingered in sidewalk cafes over risottos and glasses of wine. The slower pace was palpable.
Trains often ran late, but only the tourists minded. Laundry lines decorated every town as if clothes dryers were unfashionable. Fast food meant a takeaway meal of fresh meat, cheese and bread. Mornings saw residents sipping espressos outdoors instead of gulping oversized coffees in a traffic jam.
For such a big city, downtown Milan had very few traffic lights and no stop signs. Yet cars, vespas, bicycles and pedestrians managed to navigate the chaos peacefully. Were Italians less anxious? Or did they simply have a more amiable spirit?
Suited businessmen and mothers with children in tow biked leisurely to their destinations. My American standards had me worrying over the apparent carelessness of it all. (No helmets! Biking with one hand while on the phone!) But by the end of our trip, the carelessness seemed appealingly casual and devoid of road rage.
In restaurants, Mike and I were welcome to stay as long as we liked. Wine with dinner was tradizionale and not for the purpose of getting drunk but to extend the dining pleasure. Italians talked at their tables long after the food and wine were gone. No one rushed them out. Checks were not brought out until requested.
Kids understand this. Sofie prolongs meals with chatter and bursts of playing. Yet we typically reprimand her for such behavior, expecting her to inhale dinner in fifteen minutes. And why? Because my mind is leaping forward to the evening checklist: dishes, bath, bedtime rituals, etc.
Italians know how to soak in the moment, just as little kids do. Sofie isn’t worrying about her afternoon or planning the next day’s activities. She’s doing whatever feels good right now. In that respect, she’s more Italian than I am.
Spring and summer is a good time to adopt this attitude of la dolce vita. The longer days and warmer weather have a built-in sense of leisure. However, more than finding the perfect little café table or mixing up a house wine, this means tossing the schedule in favor of present-moment enjoyment. It means accepting an incomplete to-do list and unfinished chores. It means stopping frequently to breathe. A slower pace makes room for the best parts of life to happen—those unplanned bits that surprise and delight us.
I am glad to be back to writing. My Italy trip may be over, but I refuse to allow American work standards to interfere. My biggest fear is that I lose touch with life’s daily pleasures, that the American pace becomes normal again. La dolce vita is too good a feeling to enjoy only a few weeks per year on vacation.
And so it is that I feel wonderfully lazy today. I am even considering a small nap later or perhaps a glass of wine with some bread. Taking cues from both my Italian ancestors and my five-year-old, my primary goal is to soak up joy.
Loved this!