Italy Travel

Venetian Coffee

Sipping a cappuccino at a small cafe in Venice. Have to catch a train in about an hour… There is something strange and yet familiar about all of this, like Déjà vu, or something like a dream. I wonder if my ancestors had ever come to Venice, if they’d ever wanted to. When I walk these maze-like passageways, touch the cool marble, smell the sometimes stinging smell, I am alive. I am here, present in this moment that will never be again, not looking forward or backward – just being. I release the heaviness of what I selfishly call my life, and all of my judgements of the choices that led me here. I want to be like the stones in these walls and paths – solid, wearing smooth, but holding strong.