The Country House

The air here is distinctively crisp, fresh and pure – not like at home. The birds swoop in and out of the trees and the soft breeze rustle the array of bottle green leaves. Beams of sun disperse through the tree branches creating natures light show, a performance only an awakened mind could appreciate.

I’ve been a city girl for so long, wrapped up in the hustle and bustle of London. The air is toxic; there is noise everywhere. I become uncomfortable with silence when there is a whole city waiting for me, as it’s a city that never seems to sleep. Here it is quiet, and as the days have passed I’ve succumbed to the silence. Hearing nothing but nature is cleansing for the mind - it’s a feeling like no other.

We are only human. Sometimes everyday life can swallow us whole. We get caught up in work, studying, and the daily to-do list...sometimes we just need to pause and take a deep breath. So many times I’ve crumbled when faced with situations because I’ve thought it was the be all and end all. It’s not, it never is.

We need to – I need to – get comfortable with the silence, embrace it, appreciate it for what it is.

The only sound I can hear is the soft crunching beneath my feet as I walk over the crispy grass, dehydrated from the sweltering summer just gone. The ground is thirsty but the trees flourish with ripe figs and walnuts. We study the fig tree. My auntie Paola says the softer the fig, the riper it is; so we fill the old wicker basket with the best fruit on the tree, my auntie opening a few on the way round to taste the sweetness and offering one to me every now and then.

The country house was one of my granddad’s favourite places here in Italy. It’s secluded, tucked away in the hills and I start to understand why he loved it so much, the peace and quiet is overwhelming. It's the kind of feeling that could entice you to pack everything up and stay here forever, just living off the land and finding comfort in the sunrise that stretches across the hills or the blanket of stars at night – tempting?

However, being away from somewhere most familiar to me makes me appreciate the familiarity. I could easily lose myself here in the Italian countryside, but strangely enough, I think I’ve found myself. I’ve achieved what I came here to do, and although there’s a rocky road ahead, I can see light at the end of the tunnel. I’m coming home embracing the life I had before, but this time with the tools and knowledge I need to change what needs to be changed, and to appreciate what’s already there to be appreciated.Welcoming the silence makes everything else seem not so loud anymore. Maybe I could be a country girl after all?

LAURA

Getting back to what’s important.

This trip feels different. It’s not necessarily a ‘holiday’ as such, the kind where I’d normally seek the nearest beach and plant myself on a sun lounger with a Pina Colada all day. It’s a strange feeling taking the ego out of a holiday; I’ll be returning without even a tan to show for it - but that’s fine. Because this trip feels different, it is different. I think that’s what separates a trip from a holiday. I’ve done this for me, my own peace of mind, and not only to absorb all of the beauty and culture that Italy has to offer, but just to understand that there is more out there for me.

As mentioned in my previous post, it’s easy to become stuck in a rut when surrounded by the same people, and trapped in the same environment for a long period of time. It can become hard to see the wood through the trees. I’ve gone from waking up to seeing nothing but a busy main road, rows of street lights and the same man – vacant expression always – going to get his morning coffee, to the sight of rolling hills stretched for miles, picturesque countryside surrounded by tiny hilltop towns, and a crisp air that almost takes my breath away when I open the door to the balcony every morning. It’s magical.

I’m currently in Macerata, a province in the Marche region of central Italy. Up in the hills and with a beautiful historical city centre, my Uncle said that Macerata is considered to be a hidden gem of Italy. Tourists usually flock to Milan or Rome to experience Italy’s cultural vibrancy or notorious historical landmarks, but places like this, hidden away in the hilltops, are almost untouched by tourism. It’s the perfect way to find the peace and serenity I’ve been craving for so long, and to really immerse myself in the true Italian way of living.  

It’s currently Thursday, so I’m not even half way through my trip yet. But I already feel like I’m achieving what I came here to do. It’s the most frustrating thing having a mind consumed with thoughts, feelings, ideas that I just haven’t been able to translate into words. Writing is what I’ve been studying at University; I’ve been planning to make it my future, my career – so why haven’t I been able to put pen to paper and let the contents of my mind spill out onto a page? At home I felt crushed by the things going on around me, it was never part of the plan. Writing my thoughts would mean it was actually happening. But as I sit here, writing away, listening to music, my uncle dancing around the room to music of the world…it feels right. I forget everything else when I write; I was told that if you lose track of time when doing something then that thing is a passion.

I’m writing again and it feels great. It’s something I would strongly recommend for anyone in a sticky situation in which they can see no escape. Open a notebook, or a Word document and just write, anything and everything. Nobody has to see it but yourself, and it’s something I’ve definitely found difficult. As a student currently studying Journalism, an audience is something always on my mind so it’s a challenge writing for myself. But after I’ve done it, it feels like a weight off my shoulders. I still have documents I wrote over a month ago now and I read them back and don’t even recognise the person I was back then; it’s the best way to track progress or put into perspective how far I’ve come. 

I feel like I’ve come so far in a short space of time. I don’t know what the next week or so has in store for me, but I’m starting to feel myself again. Not the old me who was so easily caught up in everyday mundane problems, but a freer, happier person, humbled by the skies I’m under, and simply appreciating the day without fear of the next.

So, Laura.. What's going on?

It’s quite difficult knowing where to start when it comes to blog posts like this. In fact, I wrote that first sentence and just stared at it for about 15 minutes because I really don’t know where to start.

All that’s clear right now is that I’m here, in Italy, staying with family, trying to gather the courage to put pen to paper and feelings into words. I’ve had serious writers block for about a month now and I can’t seem to connect with the words I write – I read them back and they don’t make any sense to me.

I had things planned out pretty well; at one point everything made sense, as if all my thoughts, feelings and plans for the future were stacked into neat, organised piles of paper, only for a big gust of wind to suddenly scatter them all over the place, leaving everything in disarray.

The past month or so has just been a blur of confusion and despondency, as I’ve been coming to terms with big changes in my personal life, figuring out what direction I want to take in the next couple of years, and ending a long-term relationship that didn’t turn out how I’d hoped. I’ve been stuck in a very uncomfortable state of limbo for what seems like forever now, and my mind has been on quite a journey – sometimes experiencing some of my lowest points, to my happiest. I’ve been feeling claustrophobic, stuck in own mind, waiting for a release. This is my release.

I think it’s a common thing to become agitated or stuck in a rut when tied to the same place for a long period of time and surrounded by the same people, particularly if there is somebody who makes you feel weak, or brings you down. Problems that would usually seem small suddenly become really heavy and hard to deal with. Right now I’m many miles away from the UK, and I can breathe easier, think clearer, and the problems I felt previously seem miniscule, but I’m very aware of what I have waiting for me when I return.

I once heard that time has a beautiful way of healing and nature has a powerful way of putting things in their rightful place. Day by day, as I wake up each morning, I feel a little stronger and my heart and mind are slowly healing – pieced together by the love of my family and friends who have picked me up each time I’ve stumbled. I think it’s always going to be important for me or for anyone currently in a long-term relationship, to stop and look around. It’s easy to let tunnel vision take over, and for all energy to be focused on one person, one situation, one problem, without paying attention to the people around you… the people who are there to unconditionally love and support you.

I appreciate these people in my life, I love them, and I’ve embraced every bit of time they have devoted to making me feel whole again.

Change is hard, and has felt uncomfortable. But with change comes growth. Having this breathing space has given me time to change my outlook on this current situation. The pain and heartache I have felt has taught me so many things about loving myself, appreciating those around me and taking each day as it comes, finding comfort in the idea that things will eventually fall into place – whatever’s meant to be will be, and everything happens for a reason.

I’ve decided to start channelling these emotions and important life lessons into my writing. Heartbreak, indecisiveness and confusion are all very complex things that I’m still learning about every day. To document this journey of mine – and in the hope of helping someone else – I’m going to use this space as a blank notebook that I can pour the contents of my mind onto. I hope to look back and see how that big gust of wind that seemed to turn everything upside down, wasn’t such a bad thing after all.