I just returned from Italy. I met up with my family in Florence, where my brother Chris is currently studying art. I was excited to go to Italy for a number of reasons… one being to see the beautiful and historical sights and two being to see my family. On the plane I realized that I have been in Philadelphia for two months. I was baffled by time and how it seems to pick and choose when to go by quickly and when to go by slowly. I have recently wondered if time has not changed entirely upon my return from the birth attendant school. It seems that my time in Egypt and India lasted four life times, but now, nine months has flown by like two weeks. I still can’t really believe that I am back from Las Vegas, let alone Italy, and am now just in Philadelphia, to live, forever, with no trips, no plans, and no tricks up my sleeve to keep me busy. I fear that if life continues on this way, I will be 87 in a blink of an eye, still wondering what on earth I should do with my life. Although I’ve always said that 80 would be a good age to marry, so I’d like to think of myself on a porch, in a rocking chair drinking coffee, chit chatting away about the weather. At any rate, I had a minor panic attack when I thought about being 24 this year. “Official adult age”. As you can tell from the thoughts above, my 12 + hour travel times to and from Italy were filled with thoughts and dreams of the future; some outrageous and ridiculous, some feasible, exciting and scary.

Upon arriving in Florence, I decided to leave these thoughts at the airport, and really enjoy my first time over seas as a tourist. No work to do, no plans, no agendas, no people to save… just pretty things to look at. For the most part, the week truly proved to be wonderfully relaxing, full of beauty, laughter, and light hearted fun. We spent most of our time in Florence, which was beautiful. Everyone there was so shiny, polished, fancy, and put together. I felt a bit like a ragamuffin, but enjoyed the people watching. We saw beautiful cathedrals centuries old, ancient statues, painted masterpieces, Michelangelo’s “David” (which was simply incredible.)

We went one day to Venice, where we walked the quaint cobblestone streets, and went on a gondola ride, just as you’d imagine you’d do in Venice. Our gondolier was a kind, wonderful man named Roberto. He started training at five years old with his father who was a gondolier before him. He told us about the buildings we passed; pointing out the houses of famous names we’ve heard all our lives like “Casanova.” He told us about the Bridge of Sighs, and encouraged the ladies to make a wish. He assured us it would come true, in all sincerity. It was a beautiful ride, and I felt so completely content in a boat with my family, weaving in and out of canals that each held hundreds and hundreds of years of stories.

We went another day to Rome, and to the Vatican City. There was a massive line to get into the Vatican Museum, and we avoided this by joining a tour group being lead by an Australian man who knew all things “ancient Rome”. It was incredible to hear his knowledge about the different pieces throughout the museum. He told us stories, and parallels, and gave life to the beautiful, yet overwhelming amount of white sculptures, and paintings. He told us of Michelangelo, and of the politics involved in him painting the Sistine Chapel, and the hidden secrets of some of the paintings. The Sistine Chapel was enough to stop my breath and quicken my heart for a moment upon walking in. I saw almost immediately the scaffolding we learned about in junior high, and imagined him lying down for years on end, painting such an overwhelmingly incredible space. It was amazing. I wish I could have stayed there all alone for hours just studying each picture. We also went to the Coliseum, and the Forum. I felt like I did when I saw the pyramids, as if my brain was short circuiting a little bit. Knowing the importance of such things, but not really knowing where to log them in my mind. I was suddenly very aware of the mass amount of people, history, and stories that are currently under our feet. Amazed that one day I too will end up there, hoping, praying that I can leave something as beautiful as the Sistine Chapel behind for those who will soon be walking over me.

I signed up for a midwifery conference at the end of this month. I find it funny that my mind has checked out from the midwifery world, and yet I find my feet always walking towards books, then my hands always buying them. I find my fingers filling in applications to conferences, and my checkbook paying for them as well as midwifery magazines. I make no promises, but do say I am looking forward to the one day I could afford at the conference later on this month. Here is a preview of the class I signed up for:

“The Anthropology of Midwifery and Birth- …This workshop presents a broad overview of human cultural evolution and midwives' roles in that process. Learn about six types of human subsistence strategies and cross-cultural birth practices within them, noting premodern similarities across vast cultural differences and examining the homogenizing effects of modernization. In the afternoon we will look at how postmodern midwives struggle to define their identities and roles in a rapidly changing world.”

So…we shall see. I have found myself anxious about a few different things in life lately, and find myself constantly singing: “Que sera sera, whatever will be will be…” Which is actually a fairly powerful line, if you truly believe it.