Hectic schedules with my two middle schoolers and a full-time art career combined with
the sun deprivation I feel during our long winters in a very small town in dry, Central
Oregon, all make me, a California girl, enormously GRATEFUL when we go anywhere
there is sun and a little moisture in the air.
While the words, “We need a vacation,” still linger in the air, my husband and I run to our Mac and before Expedia loads, we are thinking, let’s book this thing RIGHT NOW before the money goes to the HOGS.
You know, the Have to’s, Ought to’s, Got to’s and Shoulds in life, the inner adult that likes to
rain on my inner child’s parade. From the get go our last trip was different than our
usual instant gratification trip to Mexico or a last minute Hawaii trip we justify by staying
with friends. The seed of our seven week Europe trip this summer was planted a few
years ago and it grew in delicious proportion to our visualizing what it would be. I
imagined time standing still on trains, relishing moments with my family, deciding as we
went along, where our next stop might be. I saw our faces pressed against windows,
awed by medieval castles perched high on hilltops and swooning to lyrical languages
dancing in our ears. All the conversations, debates about where to go, what our route
would be, to book hotels or to wing it, in hindsight, was really that this trip had the
promise of a unique direction and it had decided before I had a chance to see- that it
was wanting to be more so it could teach me something about BEING MORE.
On June 29th, 2009 our much anticipated flight took off to Madrid. We spent two weeks
traveling around many cities in Spain before spending three weeks in Barcelona. Our
last two weeks were spent in Italy- first Venice, then to the Tuscany region and finally
Cinque Terra. How we came to decide on these two cultures is probably stuff for
another story. I will say I don’t believe in accidents and knowing that our beloved Bruce
Springsteen was playing in Benidorm on the Mediterranean in Spain on our 17th
wedding anniversary was, to us, a sign that we had to be in Spain. And Italy? Well, can
one really be so close and NOT go to Italy? It seemed fitting and markers along the
planning path directed us and set the tone for a trip that decided to take place in two
cultures that LIVE LOUD- just to make sure I was listening.
From the moment we landed, passion fueled an underlying narrative impossible
to ignore- from dramatic displays of ardor between lovers as we squeezed tight in
hot subways, to the volume people spoke with. Buildings told stories, I could
hear them, of artists whose greatness was measured by the span of their vision.
Ardent bedsprings in our hotel hallways made me think that during the quiet
‘siesta’ hours when businesses closed in Spain, this entire nation was
responsible for raising the degrees outside under blankets of heat. No wonder
people spilled into streets hungrily at 8pm, in line like ants, one Tapas bar to
another, all night long. It wasn’t just the fervent displays of amore, the food and
the entire food ritual kept up the seduction. Even my daughter who dislikes pesto
so much, in Italy ordered primi after primi of pasta al pesto because, as she said,
“Mommy it is just SO DIFFERENT here!” In case the message wasn’t reaching
me, the Universe was now channelling my 13 year old. I’m really not
overdoing! It seemed even the books I read had been dispatched by ‘something
greater,’ into my hands, to amplify the zest- Julie and Julia, by Julie Powell, Brida
by Paolo Coelho and the Red Tent by Anita Diamant. Funny, I hadn’t
remembered The Red Tent being THAT kind of a book 5 years ago, but in Spain
it was- page after page after page….well, you get the idea.
In Italy, hands danced in time to words, and no accident that women continually
brought their hands to their chests so that I could glimpse waiters hovering longer
over their wine glasses- it was an invitation, don’t you see? But I digress, it
wasn’t all sexuality, but yes, sensuality and the beaches in Barcelona
opened my eyes so I could know. It wasn’t the nudity, but the confidence
women of every shape, size, color and age exuded, comfy and content in their
skin. People were dialed-in- you know?
Heaven sent gelato and luscious lobster punctuated the five colorful villages of
Cinque Terra. I heard that farmers carved the terraces there with their hands and
shovels to grow grapes and olives. “Well, of course!” I said out loud. One MUST
teeter on cliffs, on the edge, unafraid to make exquisite wine and sumptuous
oil. From afar the farmer’s voices came close and whispered, “To what extent will
YOU go to make your dreams happen?” “How will you bring more pleasure to
your life?”
Artwork left me silent but filled me with color and beauty and in tears I
promised Picasso to take my art further and like the buildings, I heard him
emphasize, “We paved the way for more greatness.” Fields of Sunflowers
against vivid blue skies in Tuscany, their smiling faces happily yelling “YELLOW!”
as we drove by them so I would not forget to use the color of the sun more.
All of it pointed to taking my life to a juicier level, to speak and create and do
with more ardor! I put my children’s mortification aside and I went topless in
Barcelona and something gave way….the sea breeze on my skin whispered
FEEL, ENJOY, LOVE…..more.
Life was doing what it does best. It was being abundant and it had my rapt
attention. In so loving what I saw, it expanded the possibilities of what I could
bring to my life. It handed me a gift, like it gives everyone every second we
breathe, every moment we share, everyday that we see beauty or love. In
paying attention and being grateful for it, it expanded my own life and generously
pushed me to see life through my soul’s eyes, to fill myself up with the wonder of
every moment so that I could be more of who I really am.
Alma de la Melena Cox is passionate about creating experiences that feed her soul and travel is one of them. She loves so much- her two teenagers, her husband Mike, her dog Augustus, being an artist……find out more at www.almaart.com.