Light Warrior

"When the master sees that the Warrior is depressed, he says:

'You are not what you seem to be in these moments of sadness. You are better than that.'

'Many have left - for reasons we will never understand - but you are still here. Why did God carry off all those amazing people and leave you?'

'By now, millions of people will have given up. They don't get angry, they don't weep, they don't do anything; they merely wait for time to pass. They have lost the ability to react.'

'You, however, are sad. That proves that your soul is still alive.'"

-Warrior of the Light: A Manual








Some very wise words today.

Innocence to Experience: Why I Didn't Want to Know (But I'm Kind of Glad I Do)

When I was twelve, I spent a week at my aunt’s house in East Boston. This week represented one of many spent there. My school vacation trips to Auntie D’s are a cherished part of my childhood. On this particular week, I convinced my mom over the phone to let me watch “Titanic” with Auntie D. My first PG13 movie! There were conditions, however. My aunt had to fast-forward through a few "adult" scenes (remember VCR's?) No matter. I was pumped.

1.5 hours later: Auntie D is busily making me dinner in the kitchen. I’m snacking on a Hershey bar on the living room couch, sporting pink fuzzy socks and an oversized t-shirt. A car. Steam. Yes, it was THE car scene. It’s too late. I hear a gasp from the other room as Auntie D sprints to the television, slamming her hand against the screen. To which I reply, “It’s okay, Auntie D. It's okay. They’re just kissing with their shirts off.” 

Thanks to overheard conversations among kids at the back of the bus, I now know a little bit more than I did on that fateful day nine years ago. I now know what was going on between Jack and Rose. A bit more than kissing, I would say. While the since named "Titanic incident" is an amusing one, it got me thinking about the more serious "lessons" learned. 

When we’re young, we make up explanations for concepts, processes, or events that we do not recognize or understand, or that we do not have words for. On the other side of this, we often make discoveries that we wish could have remained buried. We may not even realize these moments right away, as we try to make sense of the world in ways that we know how. However, we slowly come to realize that  life is not always peachy or easy. In fact, it can be downright tough.

One of the first times I realized that life stretched far beyond my swingset and neighborhood games of manhunt came as I watched two towers come crumbling down on television. Is that someone jumping out of the flames?! My ten-year-old heart was thumping; I frantically looked to Jules for explanation. I will never forget Mom’s stony face. Looking back, I can practically see the wheels turning in her head: I cannot shield her from this. It will change our country forever, and there is no way she won’t be exposed. But how do I explain “terrorism” to my precious, wide-eyed little girl? And why should I have to?

And so I trekked to school on the morning of September 12th, 2001. I still had a piece of my blankie in my backpack. I still wore a ribbon in my hair. But life was different from that point on. That morning, instead of class discussions about our weekends or Tuck Everlasting, I heard the names Osama and Al-Qaeda. I brought a notebook to school. I had some notion that I could be a modern day Anne Frank, journaling my experiences as a child of 9/11. Maybe someone in a distant time and place would pick it up. Even at ten, I know that this was big. 

"Dear Diary,

Something really bad has happened in America. I saw the broken towers on the news this morning. They say they are looking for people who lived, but I don't see how anyone could survive a building falling on their heads. I'm kind of scared that a plane might fly on to Cape Cod. Hopefully they won't hit my school. What would they want with kids?"

9/11 represented a widespread loss of innocence for so many children (and probably adults too).

But we don't always have a whole nation behind us. Sometimes, we can't even find one person who we feel really understands. 

There have been more personal "adult" moments that I wasn't necessarily ready for. But are we ever ready? Like the time I learned what "rape" was. From the fourteen-year-old neighbor who threatened it on me if I didn't give him a piece of my brownie. Or the time I learned of the abuse a close friend of mine suffered at the hands of a boyfriend. Teenagers know how to do that? I thought. Who the hell teaches them?

And that six letter word: cancer. Oh that word. I wouldn't be upset if I didn't hear it ever again. But I'm sure I will. It played a huge role in my maturity level, and is the major contributor as to why I am often deemed an "old soul." 

I don't know if I want to be an old soul. Sometimes it's useful. But other times, I wish I could just be nine again, playing in my treehouse, where the only worry was whether or not there was enough Kool-Aid for everyone. 

What I do know is that I appreciate having perspective. And a strong backbone. And an even stronger faith in God. Even when it's tough. And all of this is thanks to things I "didn't want to know."

This weekend, I will be volunteering at a camp called Comfort Zone. This camp serves children aged 7-17 who have lost a parent or a sibling, providing a free weekend of healing and fun. It is an unbelievable organization. I will be a "Big Buddy" for a little girl who is embarking on her own grief journey, being her best friend through the weekend and counseling her every step of the way. The one- on-one nature makes it a tremendous responsibility, and I am so ready to use my experiences for good. 

But it will be tough.

I am one who has more trouble seeing other people suffer. If it's me, fine. Well not at all "fine," but I can somehow work through it in my own way, however that may be. But when I don't know how to help someone, knowing that my words will never be enough, even if I can somehow relate....that's incredibly difficult for me. The situations that stole these children's loved ones are as varied as the kids themselves. Suicide, accidents, illness...issues that beautiful young children should never have to learn about. 

But children are pretty darn resilient. Children are intuitive and insightful. I have learned this throughout many years of intense interactions with young people of all ages and in all capacities. You can have some frank conversations with kids, and they really understand. Sometimes, they even bring up points and emotions that you hadn't even considered. 

Maybe this is because they still play in tree houses. And have imaginary friends. And drink Kool-Aid. 

In my own experience, beautiful light has come out of the darkness in the forms of relationships and insight. I would not give up hardships for anything. Yes, it would be nice to have a perfect life with constant rainbows and butterflies. But at the end of the day, I wouldn't grow without the difficult times. In fact, I would not appreciate all of the miraculous moments that life has to offer. At (nearly) twenty-one, I would not have the unique perspectives on existence that unfortunately take most people a lifetime to develop. 

So I'll take the occasional storm. And I'll keep my innocence, thank you very much. Because bad things happen, whether we recognize them or not. Growing up is not about avoidance. It is about making the most of what you experience, and using each moment to learn and grow. That is what I'll tell my kids this weekend: Even when it's raining, keep believing that it is still a beautiful day. 

California, Cousins, and Commencement

Continuing on a spontaneity streak, I decided to take a last minute trip this weekend to Mission Viejo, California for my cousin Liz's college graduation. Actually, it wasn't really a decision. As soon as I found out that my aunt was going, I was online booking a ticket to accompany her. I absolutely adore my California family, and I could never pass up the chance to spend quality time with them.

My cousins, Mandy and Liz, are two of my most favorite people in the world. And I don't say that lightly. If you are as lucky as I am with extended family, you realize that cousins can have very deep relationships. I think one of the main reasons I have so much trouble leaving the girls after a visit is because I feel like the third sister when I'm with them. Unfortunately, factors like distance, school, and jobs keep the three of us apart more than I would like. However, we did grow up together, and I cherish these childhood memories on both the East and West coasts.

My first birthday in California, 1992

Disneyland, 1999

Graduation, 2009

It's probably worth mentioning that this entire trip was a surprise for my Cali family. No one had any idea that I was coming. I was the first to walk in the door; I really wish I could have taken pictures of my cousins' reactions! Very wide eyes, screaming, and lots of hugging.

Family dinners, walks on the beaches, a trip to San Diego's Old Town, and an afternoon in Hollywood followed throughout the weekend.

Huntington Beach, Orange County

Old Town San Diego was stunning. Obviously, I'm not used to seeing a whole lot of Spanish influence coming from Massachusetts, so I found the whole area to be particularly beautiful. Artwork lined the streets, spicy food smells wafting...ah!

This guy had a free hula-hoop thing going!

And on Sunday, the woman of the hour graduates. Congratulations, Liz!

To cap off the occasion, a casual eclipse. Ya know. Only happens every once in a blue moon. No pun intended.

Post-graduation dinner was at a restaurant called, "Arrivederci." Yes, I was SO in my element here! Perugia friends, you guys may appreciate this: I essentially acted as translator for the Italian menu. I know some of us have had to play that role. :) Made me so homesick for our beautiful city! The restaurant was so legit that they gave me wine. Not complaining!

We ended the trip by visiting some iconic Hollywood sites, namely, the Chinese theater and Walk of Fame. Oh, and I can't forget my first experience at In-And-Out Burger! A dream come true. I highly recommend it.

Harry Potter cast, obvs. Including wand prints. 

JULIE. ANDREWS.

Rodeo Drive

I am coming to appreciate experiences and time with loved ones more than anything else in the world. I am so incredibly thankful to have such amazing family out West. I have always looked up to Mandy and Liz from day one, and I am thrilled that as we get older, we can pick up and remain as close as ever. :)

Creating Ripples

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered...


This quote from Nelson Mandela has always been one of my favorites, as I think it beautifully captures a feeling of returning to a place after being away. These types of feelings have been on my mind consistently throughout the past week.

I have come to the conclusion that there is no feeling quite like the feeling I get when I look out at the horizon; the sky is such a brilliant blue that it is hard to tell exactly where it blends with the sea. I have a special beach spot that I trek to when I'm craving some kind of continuity and stability. I have spent countless hours there in the past few years...reading, writing, thinking, laughing, and even crying. Alone, with friends...but usually alone. The beach spot is my "rock." When my heart becomes full with any type of overwhelming emotion, positive or negative, the open sky and endless horizon soaks it up like some kind of sponge; such a vast space seems large enough to contain my own musings.

Sitting at this particular spot the last few days had me thinking. The beach spot never changes, even when I do. Sure, the beach grass may grow a little taller, or the alleged erosion may shave an inch or so off of the shoreline every once in awhile. But essentially, my beach spot looks the same as it did last year, and the year before that. It is stability.

And I like it.

If the beach spot could talk about me, it would probably have quite a lot to say. About what it's observed me doing. It may recall the time I wrote a long letter to a faraway friend, and searched for over an hour to find the perfect rock to send along with it. It may mention the time I prayed for a family member's life at the shore, my tears dripping into the waves, forever submerged. Or maybe even the time I felt so overwhelmed with joy that I ignored the brain-freeze level cold and dove in headfirst. The shore may even talk about how I myself, like the beach grass, have grown taller. Or grown inward.

But mostly grown inward.

I am a very different girl from the one who sat at the beach spot two years ago. Or last year. Or even this past winter when I made a quick drive to say "goodbye" before my semester abroad. It's an interesting feeling, the one of knowing that in a few months, you will be back at the same spot, but will have had some incredible experience in between. Almost something I weirdly feared in a way. And still do.

But, as I was told recently, change equals growth, whether positive or negative. Change is actually a beautiful process in that it allows you to adapt. I like to picture certain events in my life as some of the small pebbles that I've thrown into the ocean so many times, creating countless ripples in an infinite number of directions. Without any of these moments or "ripples," I would not be where I am today.

And we only have today. 

Life is not a guarantee. Ever. I've been blessed to learn that early on and act accordingly. While I go and pursue my dreams, however blindly, the beach will always be there to welcome me home, and remind me of today. It is a reminder of faith and love and trust and all things good. Even when I'm afraid of the uncertainty of what comes next, I always come back to the beach spot with a greater sense of appreciation, strength, and wisdom. I am always being cared for.

And for that, I am thankful.

Wait, They're Speaking English...

I've had forty-eights hours back on Cape Cod. I've come to the conclusion during this time that there are some wonderful reasons to love being home. A few:

America runs on Dunkin. So a coffee naturally greeted me at the airport. 

The boys. Think this says enough.

Mom left some presents on my bed (including new handmade blanket). Note the Easter basket!  And obvs the newsy magazines are necessary for "cultural reentry."

Reuniting with two wonderful friends tomorrow. Including this girl! :)

Rocky puppy! (No, we don't have snow. This is from winter!) Look at that face...

Beautiful Cape. I can handle this. 

That being said, coming home is really tough. REALLY.

No one is speaking Italian. Yes, this is the United States. But I miss the language terribly. I've totally been messing up and throwing out Italian words left and right to some really puzzled looks. Momentary embarrassment aside, it makes me happy. So I may be teaching ya'll some Italian proverbs or expressions. I know some swears too, although I wouldn't ever use them!

 I don't know anything on the radio. "Call Me, Maybe?" What is this stuff? To which I hear, "Dude, this has been out for months." Thanks, brother's friend!

Guilty of looking at pictures on my Italian high schoolers' Facebooks and tearing up. It's hard to explain, but they were just so willing to be friends. I miss that.

Certain foods just don't taste as good. Namely, tomatoes. Pretty much any produce actually.

I miss being legal...but June 4th, my friends!

Also, boredom. Not boredom in the fact that Cape Cod isn't amazing, just boredom in that I actually know my way around. And I know the culture.

I miss apartment shenanigans. Like hiding the dead stuffed squirrel in each other's closets when someone was gone for the weekend. (But never in anyone's bed. That was just off-limits. We weren't that mean!)

Think he liked it in there.

And the amusement of watching Italian drivers. On our last day in Perugia, we watched this moment unfold from our viewpoint spot. Guy in the blue/black jeep is trying for literally ten minutes to squeeze into that tiny parking space. Never mind that there were other just up the road. But no, he had to take the most complicated one. THEN guy in the lighter blue car drives up to the jeep, and the drivers just start chatting in the middle of the road, blocking traffic. Thus man in the white truck has to practically swerve onto the sidewalk to avoid them. Only in Italy. 

I miss relaxing lunch hours (or three hours. Depending). Usually outdoors basking in the sun.

But most of all, I miss the wonderful people I have grown to call my close friends. Spread out, all over the world. I keep finding myself thinking in "Italy time." What are my people in Perugia doing right now? Are they leaving for work? Are they out on the town, window shopping or taking their nightly strolls? Or sleeping? Are they at Dempsey's? Or at the market? Or on the steps?

At some point, I'll be back in American time. But right now, my heart is still over the Atlantic. 

Departures

I have some news! Prince Harry and I eloped this weekend. It was kind of a whirlwind, but we're back in Rome right now where he is going to see me back to the States.

Unfortunately, not true. But I am in Rome. By myself. While I didn't catch a glimpse of the princes, my time in London was fabulous. Major props to Jules for not completely freaking out about my solo travel (or, freaking out but not letting me know about it!). I love my mom in that she completely encourages me to go out of my comfort zone, even if she's nervous about it. And still makes sure I'm taken care of. One of the many reasons she's so wonderful! Also doesn't hurt that I'm getting one of my favorite home cooked meals tomorrow night. Welcome home, Maria!

In all seriousness, I cannot hide the fact that I am incredibly proud of myself. I've navigated foreign airports, major cities, and transportation systems for ten days. Essentially alone. For the London portion, totally alone. For someone who had never even traveled outside of the US before four months ago, this feels like a major accomplishment. I looked at my extension trip as a "graduation" in a sense. I used everything I learned all semester, both about myself and traveling in general. And I did it. Wow.

I'll hit the highlights of the trip now, and expand when I'm not exhausted and anticipating a 4:30am wake up! To start, God bless the woman who captured this moment:

I wish I was Hermione, let's be real. 

No lie, at least twelve people have been harping me for Harry Potter tour deats. If you are anywhere near London, GO. That is all. I have no shame in saying that I cried during parts. It really hit me. This was such a huge part of my childhood. More in the coming days, no worries!

I saw the classic sites, of course.

Westminster...so hauntingly beautiful, both inside and out

Buckingham Palace

The Tower of London was one of my favorites. Definitely worth the arm and a leg I paid for admission.

My stroll in Hyde Park completely reaffirmed my love of long, reflective walks. (See "introversion" post). It was stunning.

London actually reminded me of Boston a bit. Just the atmosphere and green spaces. I shouldn't be too surprised because of history, but still. That's a compliment to London, because no city will ever top Boston in my eyes!

Honestly, I'm really nervous about coming back to the States. Nervous about how I'm different, nervous about not knowing what these differences will mean. And I'm not talking about my longer hair (mid-back length now) or slightly altered fashion sense or eating habits. I'm nervous about my new attitude on life, even though it's a great one. Nervous that it will disappear and I'll get stuck in a routine again. In Perugia, I had no routine really. And I absolutely loved that. Frankly, after a few years of intense stress, it was perfect. I am trying to remind myself that I can bring these amazing changes back with me. But it's just hard to foresee how that will happen, and how my relationships will be. Or how I will adjust. I know it will take time.

Time. Both a blessing and a curse. As someone told me recently, I just have to go easy on myself. And have patience.

And I'm going to keep writing. It's one of my favorite pastimes, and has been a wonderful outlet. So if any of my hypothetical readers (besides mom) are out there, this isn't the end. Not even close. That's actually a good line:

This isn't the end of my experience. Actually, when I look at the incredibly special friendships that I've made and my new outlook on life, I realize that my experiences with these people and myself are just beginning.

So now, as I get ready for bed during my last night in Italy for some time, my heart is sad. I cannot lie. Achingly sad. But I am at peace. In less than twenty-four hours, I will joyfully hug Joey and Mom in the same spot where I tearfully said goodbye just four short months ago. What a concept. Crazy ride.

But that's life, right? Arrivals and departures. Hellos and goodbyes. "I'll see you laters." And then those "see you laters" come and it all floods back. Sometimes, we're at one end. Sometimes the other.

It's funny though, because when you depart from one place, you HAVE to arrive at another. There's no choice. When we depart Platform 9 3/4, we arrive at Hogwarts. When we die, we arrive in Heaven. When we depart from one mentality, we have to arrive at a different way of thinking. So even though I'm departing Italy, I have to be arriving somewhere. And I'm excited to see where exactly I land.

I Think I See a Leprechaun

I wish! Leprechauns weren't in the cards for me yesterday when I visited Blarney Castle. But some of the most stunning scenery of the semester was!

Yes, Blarney is famous for the Blarney Stone. And I kissed it, of course. (Amusing photo later in the post). Ashley had some work to do yesterday, so I ventured out on my own to see the sites. However, as fate would have it, I met two random Canadians on the bus over. They were around my age, and on holiday for a few weeks following the end of their semester at university. They were visiting a friend of theirs in Cork as well, so we spent the day together. It's like Jack said in Titanic, "I love waking up not knowing what's going to happen, or who I'm going to meet.." And who said life lessons couldn't be learned from that movie?!

Okay, I'm done. But seriously, that's what I've absolutely loved about this semester. Fellow travelers are often so willing to be friends. I will probably never see them again, but it was an adventure all the same!

Ireland is, in my opinion, one of the few places in the world where the clouds dramatically enhance the views. Seriously. The soft light, the gentle drizzle...beautiful. Not to mention, I've never seen so much GREEN. Drastically exceeded any expectations I had.

Blarney Castle

Tight spaces

Beautiful

You could crawl through the dungeon tunnels! Ducking, of course.

Painting?

View from the top

Funny story behind his grate. If someone was invading the castle, the guards would stand over this opening (which is above the entrance) and poor boiling liquids, etc. on the invader as he walked in. That's one way!

We then walked to the "poison garden." One of very few of its kind, this garden is full of genuinely poisonous plants. All I could think of were my six-year-old summer campers, who love to touch, and occasionally eat, anything and everything we see in the wild. Taking them here would be a nightmare.

 The poison garden ended up turning into a kind of scavenger hunt, titled, "Let-Me-See-How-Many- Harry-Potter-Plants-Are-Real."

YES! MANDRAKES ARE REALLY REAL! HARRY POTTER FANS!

Found this sign at the marijuana section:

Haha

One of several from the "Maria tries to climb a tree" photo shoot

One of the few times I can be tall

More amazingness

 We then took one of the walks around the grounds. I can't even explain the following pictures. I seriously thought a fairy was going to pop out.

My favorite picture of the day. Who knows where it leads.

The Wishing Steps! Walk up and down with your eyes closed, thinking only of your wish. It should come true within a year.

Real life?

I like the castle looming in the background.

And to end things: My kiss. And for the record, those bars below my head are an illusion. They were not right below me. There was nothing there but a nice long drop. Splat. Thus the nice man holding me.

Put your back into it!

Heading to London tomorrow. Happy Tuesday!