Elevate the Senses

Elevate the Senses

Gino the Wine Knower

Returning from a month in Italy, most friends asked, "Was it great?" Expecting a yes answer they quickly moved on to the next topic. Others were more curious, wanting to learn more about the trip.  When they asked "What was the best thing you saw or did in Italy?" it would have been easy to say Florence, or Sorrento, or Tuscany. Instead I had to stop and reflect on not just the journey, but the experiences that wove themselves into my being and which now present as the best things about Italy.
It began with Gino who was known in Tuscany as a "wine-maker" but who called himself a "wine-knower."Reverently touching the vines he said "God and nature make the wine. Only by observing nature, the sky, the earth, the wind and the water do you know the wine." He continued, "Wine is not liquid. Rather wine is the heat of the sun, and the womb of the earth which produces the wine in this sacred valley where grapes were first discovered 2,600 years ago." 

Gino felt the drinking of wine should be a slow and holy journey.  And indeed, his wine stories were a metaphor on living a conscious life.  He asked, "Why do you race to the end of the

Four Generations of Gelato Makers

journey?  If you do, it's quickly over!  Go slowly and enjoy the pleasure of the trip. Bring all your senses into every experience and elevate each sense along the way. Smell the musk of the earth that produced the wine.  See the crimson color created by the chill air.  Hear the tone of the liquid as it's poured into a glass.  And feel the tingle at the back of the tongue as you taste it. That is how you become a knower of wine!"

Gino was the first of many Italians we met who said the same thing, delivered a similar message, and made you realize the Italians really do live like this. Theirs is a modern country, yet their lives are tied to the old ways - the elements, to the cycles of the moon and sun for planting, and the tides that come in and out. They do this as a matter of course, and without fanfare.  They do not rush about.  They take each day, each hour, each moment for what it presents. Every day they go to market for fresh produce or meats. The are restored in a three hour rest mid-day when stores close and dinner is served.  They work hard but

Family Sunday Dinners

take rest as needed.

The hearts of the Italian people are tied to their relationships with family and friends.  We learned Sunday was family day across Italy. Nothing interrupts Sunday meal gatherings that span several generations.  Yet, with warm hearts they invited us into their family celebrations. Seated at an open air restaurant by the Bay of Naples, we shared food and drink with them.  We were strangers, yet they offered us appetizers and tastes of food off their plates, along with glasses of Limoncello.  With my broken Italian and their broken English we laughed and talked and felt part of an extended family though we were far away from our own.

What was the best thing about Italy?  The people!  In Tuscany, we remember a "wine-knower" who was really a philosopher. In Sorrento we remember afternoons spent with a shop owner who told us her life story and called us "her angels."  Also in Sorrento, we remember four generations of gelato makers, learning about their religious faith, the loss of a child, and the joys of being a

Laura & Luca's Shop

large family. In Rome, we got taken for a ride by an unscrupulous taxi driver.  But he was overshadowed when Zina (an Italian warrior princess) came to our rescue, driving us around Rome at a fair price then picking us up at dawn to go to the airport so we wouldn't get caught by another unregistered taxi. These were the people who were the best thing about Italy.

Like Gino said, we experienced a most holy journey.  It was one we took slowly with elevated senses.  We touched the core of the people and their land.  We were embedded with them, their families and their stories.  Now, each of those treasured moments and the people who brought them to life are forever etched in our hearts.  On Valentine's Day we especially remember them.
++++++++

Coming Home

Coming Home

Without question traveling is a rich experience. It alters our understanding of other cultures and traditions. It broadens our previously held ideas about them. And, through meaningful conversations with people we meet, our ideals hopefully become more universal. But after months of travel, there's nothing quite like Coming Home. It's that glorious moment when you walk into your house and the familiar settings, the books, the crystals, the altar with its lingering smells of burned down incense, reclaim you. There's a silent pause as you look around and hear the house saying, I've been here waiting; where have you been?

Returning home is another part of the travel experience. But, re-animating the home can take a while. Travel laundry has to be done. Suitcases, battered by TSA across two continents, need to be put away for another year. Then food and supplies brought in. This sounds rather ordinary and routine. But, in mindfulness practices, the process is quite deliberate and methodical. For when a house sits alone for months, it develops its own silent but very noticeable patterns. A calm stillness is tangible in every room. It's held its own space without benefit of human intervention. The objects, lovingly placed by careful hands, look somewhat tenuous. It's as though each one could easily dissolve into the ether.

So, re-introducing human contact is a slow and sacred process. It must be done gently while respecting the energetic patterns the house created without us. It continued to provide shelter and cooling from the elements, though no one was around to appreciate it. Silly as it sounds, that must be acknowledged. Just as we ask the house spirit to be watchful and protective when we leave for travel, the same way we thank it for its service and duty when we return.

Once food has filled the refrigerator it's time for the more subtle animations to begin. Flowers are brought in. Their colors permeate everything. Flower-presence enlivens the house, telling it, take note, they're back! The flowers never overwhelm, but are a compliment to the décor. But the one thing above all others that signals to the house that "they're back" is the smell of incense. Once lit, the light blue tendrils of smoke linger as the smell of Champa wafts through the atmosphere. Anyone coming in the front door remarks about the signature fragrance.

Each sense of sight and smell and touch and taste bring life back into the house. But the powerful sense of sound announces a unique harmony when the various chimes are returned to the garden. The bamboo chimes play a tubular melody against the tinkling pipes of the Woodstock chimes. Then, when the deep vibrant tones of the long Neptune pentatonic tubes sound their baritone notes, the garden and house fall into resonance. This is when the tones and aromas awaken the "house-spirit" and it once again becomes a spirit-home. 

While these are most notable animations, balance must always be envisioned. When the elements are in harmony, balance is restored. When the sun moves across the heavens, announcing a new season every three months, balance is restored. When a house has its people, balance is restored. When its people animate the house, balance is restored. Coming Home restores a sacred balance. Gardens, left idle during travel, are weeded and fertilized, and balance is restored. Morning walks on the beach, not enjoyed since June, resume, and balance is restored. Sharing the journey with friends and students restores the balance.

In the end, it's these mundane acts of Coming Home that reclaim our space, renew us, and make us settled again. In these simple acts, great happiness and gratitude permeate the return to normalcy. May there be balance and happiness when you come home this Thanksgiving.

Jo Mooy - November 2015