The Title

So 40 years and 10 weeks - I am not yet 40, and certainly not 40 plus 10 weeks. So why the title? This blog is dedicated to my path to arriving at 40 and the journey that ensues. Last fall (just shortly after my 39th birthday), a friend asked what I was doing to celebrate the big day. All around me, the invites to attend 40th bday parties were rolling in. I sat in awe listening to an especially fit friend of mine as she described the training and the actual feat of deciding to climb Mt Rainier to celebrate her 40th. She did not make it to the top, but her commitment was clear none-the-less. She had embraced on her mission because she was not ready to celebrate the passage into the decline, she was just discovering new things and taking her body to new heights.

So, I thought what could I do that would really evoke me, celebrate me, enrich me. I'm headed to Italy. Not for a vacation, but for 10 whole weeks.

I took a trip to Italy in my early 20's, spent about 10 days there, along with stops in other parts of Europe. I sat in awe on a hill side in Firenze - enjoying a beautiful picnic lunch of bread, fresh tomatoes and cheese.

I watched children of street vendors in Roma, playing behind their parent's stall - engaged in a pick up game of soccer when a fight broke out. Before long, the men had wandered over to see the commotion and soon the momma's joined them. Shouting at the kids, waiving their hands in the way that only Italians can, and putting everyone back in the their place. Minutes later, the game resumed and smiles once again returned.

I relish the day spent in Milano working with some friends - following a beautiful breakfast of cappuccinos and pastries, we wandered to the office. About 1pm it was time for lunch, so we stopped by a farmers market in the way back to the flat - picking up beautiful fresh pasta, salty brined olives, luscious tomatoes and of course a bottle of vino. Lunch was a leisurely affair, cooking, enjoying the wine and of course ended with a much needed siesta and a wake-up of a lovely demitasse of espresso with a hint of lemon peel. Then back to the office for a few more hours. Dinner was a night on the town, sitting down to prepare a beautifully prepared meal about 9pm. Certainly, wine was on the menu and we happily returned to the flat about midnight.

Life in Italy has passion! It is not the food, it is not the people. It is the attitude about life that jumps out to me, beckoning back to live a life of passion. The Italians are truly experiential. They do not passively sit by and watch on the sidelines. They embrace life, for good or for bad, and they do it with gusto, pride and true passion.

My 10 weeks in Italy are about just that. Living life with passion. I will be headed on a journey - figuring out how to get there, how to afford it, how to enjoy it and how to take those memories and make them a permanent resident in my life. I hope that you can join me on my adventure, so that one morning as you sip your latte from Starbucks, the aroma will take you to a cafe in Pisa or perhaps a hilltop in Firenze.