This is what I love about “my boots guy.” Guiseppe continues to speak itlaian to me even though I’m sure he knows that I don’t really comprehend. The thrust gets through — certainly the bevy of baci do — but much of the meaning is lost.

I confess that after 9 months living in Italy, I am still very much an english speaker.

How I failed to learn italian

Sure, there are lots of excuses to be given: I don’t really have the ear for the language; I am around english speakers 80% of the time; Florence is a very english-friendly city and most shop owners and restaurant servers are willing if not looking for chances to speak english.

The simple fact is I didn’t put in the time to learn and practice.

Rosetta Stone went unopened on my laptop. Podcasts went unlistened. Books gathered dust on the shelves and tables of my apartment.

It is all especially unforgivable as I was given the opportunity to sit-in/take italian class with the students. Again the excuses of the dentist visits and illness, but the truth is I often didn’t do my homework and I didn’t practice.

I didn’t make it a priority. All the resources are there but as they all say: you have to do the work. I didn’t.

I had the best of intentions to return stateside fluent with pitch-perfect Tuscan accent. My “ideal self” would have taken more advantage of all of the opportunities given.

The reality of course is ideals and intentions don’t about to bubkus unless your make them a reality.

Wishing doesn’t make it so.

Nor do regrets turn magically into results.

Much as I sometimes internally — and sometimes verbally — complain about my lack of community here, at heart I know it is my own fault. I invested my time and attentions in people and activities elsewhere. And, you know, in english. So it is entirely unsurprising that my community now is also elsewhere.

Many suggested — actually still suggest — I get an italian “companion.” There are two months left so I guess it is not to late to find a ragazzo. It is also not too late to crack those books, listen to podcasts, open Rosetta Stone, find a conversation partner, and put in the time and practice.

Do I really think I will?

No.

Alas, there is my confession. I could end this with some grand promise to change, but it would be half-hearted at best.

Parlo un po d’italiano. I can bluff my way through a simple conversation and that, for me, is enough.

I’ve avoided doing the hard work for this long — even going so far as to walk a few blocks out of my way to avoid my beloved boots guy on more than one occasion because simply I didn’t want to expend the energy to try — and it is almost assured that I will continue.

My “ideal self” can continue to imagine discussing art and history in lilting beautiful italian while sipping chianti overlooking sunset upon verdant hills… my real self, in the meantime, will crack open her laptop and engage with english speakers across the globe.

C’e pecato?

Forse.

E vero?

Veramente si.

Ma…

Sempre Avanti,
Jo

PS – Noticed it has been a little quiet around here? I’ve been putting my attentions towards a new collaborative site: Being Unbound. I’ll still be posting here with life stuff every once in a while, but for more active communication check out my A Photo A Day Project or Being Unbound! 

War and war-like actions are the worst mankind has to offer this world. Violence begets violence. It always has been a self replicating and escalating cycle and it, I fear, always will be.

I am by no means the most erudite student of history on the planet but I grew up in a news-aware home as the daughter of two Peace Activists. Some of my earliest memories are of holding a candle outside the White House and Pentagon. I remember vividly trying to wrap my young mind around the concept of a hunger strike. I celebrated my 8th birthday around a bonfire while participating in the Great American-Soviet Peace March in the Soviet Union in 1987.

In this light — my own perspective — I look at current events.

Perspective, let us share some

I think my hippy-peace-nick-tree-hugger cred runs pretty deep; as do my beliefs in the ideals of living in a peaceful and just society.

Again, I am saddened by the bombings and send my deepest sympathies to those affected.

Yet we have to remember that we Americans are not alone in feeling the effects of acts of violence. At the same time that the car chase and lockdown was happening in Boston, 27 people were killed by a bomb in a Iraqi coffeeshop. It a lower 3rd ID — a footnote — on the live-news action of the manhunt. And that is what really saddens me.

We, as US citizens, are so isolated and removed from the atrocities of violence that a bombing that kills 27 people in an area still under our “protection” (make no mistake we are still very much involved there) is a sidenote to pictures of a Boston suburb on lockdown.

This is to say nothing of the other many, many acts of violence on a big and small scale happening across the globe. It all becomes overwhelming. My only point I guess is that maybe, perhaps, the 3 days of constant news from one corner of the world should be weighed harshly agaist the reality on the rest of the planet.

So what to do?

Reconciling

I understand that my self-avowed non-violent ways is difficult to reconcile with what I chose to do for “fun” on weekends.

GORUCK Challenges are completely based on military training and run by former green berets. While participants come from all walks of life — one of the things that make the events great — most of “my boys” are current or former military service members from across the globe.

We, as GRTs, get a little taste of what real service members do: putting ourselves through the paces of ruck movements with time hacks, low crawls and buddy carries. I hope I never forget that these actions all have very real, life-and-death practical purpose for men and women in uniform.

How does that jive then with my hippy-dippy ways and beliefs?

By sharing sweat, “good livin’,” and ACRT, I have gotten to know these men and women as individuals.

I choose to try to understand and appreciate them for who they are and what they have chosen to do. I don’t like and revolt against a few of the things said on challenges and on our internal chat boards… but I respect the individual right to voice their opinion and learn from their perspective. Isn’t that true freedom?

While we might not always agree, I love being part of this community of varied, crass, irreverent, hilarious, and tough individuals.

Being part of this team — this “family” — reminds me to look at people as people, just trying to do their best in the world with humor and spirit. I love supporting a company and community that strives for excellence and continually give back.

So I am inspired to give to my fellow GRTs in initiatives like F*ck Cancer and support for Sandy cleanup. I also proud to support Team Rubicon that both helps former-service members and the world at large — using those talents and skills learned in the military for good, constructive, positive purposes.

I have hope that our country and countries across the world start to use our military might in more benevolent and constructive ways — for I think that is the only way to stamp out violence and end these types atrocities. We will all be safer and when more across the globe are educated, safer and more free.

It can — it has to — start with we, as individuals, choosing to use our talents, however gotten, to do some good in the world.

Compassion breeds compassion.

Help and Hope

Finding my own inner peace on this score is an ongoing process. There is no doubt that I am giving some justifications here for thoughts and actions that really just defy reconciliation. What might not make logical sense is reconciled by my feeling sense.

I have found a supportive and engaging community through GORUCK and other athletic events that pushes me to adapt, learn and grow. I want to give back in the spirit of this community which has given me so much — not just athletically, but intellectually and in perspective.

The image of the news coverage I referenced earlier? Sent to me by a GRT-friend from the Czech Republic. Seeing the ignorance of geography and politics — Chechen versus Czech — through his quips and links could be blog post in and of itself. I think I have gone on long enough for today though, and want to end on the note that has helped me make sense of this and many life events: positivity and help out of tragedy.

The news and reflections on Boston that I have most appreciated are ones from the running/active/athletic community. For my heart understands that it is only in uniting together and celebrating supportive, altruistic, giving acts that we can deal with the tragedy of violence. (Last Link btw goes to my fundraising page for Semper Fi whose team I am running my first marathon with – they have promised to give a portion of the proceeds donated through May 1st to Boston)

As many posted up on social media streams: “… look for the helpers.” – Fred Rogers

Do something productive and positive with your time today. Lend a hand. Donate blood. Help a neighbor. Send positive energy out to the universe for those that suffer. Or yes, donate dollars to a worthy cause.

For my part, I have been recently drafted into service for a challenge to raise $1million for the Green Beret Foundation in the next year.

What started as a passing note on a Facebook page has turned into an effort to give back to those who have given so much in the line of duty. I struggle to write “in the fight for freedom” for I feel there is an inherent problem there, but the simple fact is those that don the green beret don’t choose where they are sent and have paid the ultimate sacrifice in disproportionately high numbers. I feel we owe it to them to support them and their families, and the Green Beret Foundation is dedicated to “caring for America’s quiet professionals.”

I wrote to my email readers on Friday that it feels good to be using my varied, spastic, still-in-process talents for a worthy cause (that website there, I built that). I stand behind that sentiment completely and without reservation. It is an honor to give back and help as I can — to reach out with love, compassion, and faith in the inherent goodness of individuals. I look forward to the next year of the effort with an incredible, varied, supportive, giving and growing team.

In the face of tragedy and violence, let us all try to focus back on faith, hope and charity. Outside of any religion, it is the only path toward human redemption and peace.

“Let your light so shine before men, that they might see your good works…”

The greatest is always love.

Sempre Avanti,
Jo

PS – Thanks as always for sticking through to the end. I know I rambled about and covered a lot of ground today trying to make sense of it all. I just needed to give voice to the snarling, whirling thoughts otherwise trapped in my cranium. I invite you to please share your thoughts ideas here in the comments, I appreciate them so much. We are — I am — always better for more perspective.

I’ve been pondering and ruminating about Social Media for some time. How do we connect and what does it mean? The most recent events in the life of my familial unit throw into stark relief this digital age in which we live.

It is just… strange.

I’m trying quite hard to banish further judgement or opinions on life choices, but there are the facts: my brother got married last and I found out about it via Facebook.

A wedding brought to you by instagram

“Were you invited to our brother’s wedding BBQ?”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I got a Facebook invite to a Wedding BBQ on Saturday.”

This was last Friday from my youngest brother who is studying abroad here in Florence. It has been wonderful having him here and getting to better know the incredible man he has become in the 10+ years since we last lived under the same roof (not to mention in the same town).

Having family here in person to talk over and, eventually, toast the events of the last week has been especially soothing and helpful.

The picture is my NYC-Aussie couple friends wedding invite which I recived via snail-mail last week and just adore. Again the contrast: My middle sibling and his fiancé of a year had, apparently, decided to visit a justice of the peace and throw the aforementioned soiree the following day – and announced their intentions via Facebook invite.

Our families are wide spread: my parents in one corner of Florida, the couple in another corner, my sister in Georgia, brother and I here in Florence and my new sister-in-law’s mother in Afghanistan. There was talk of a family gathering sometime over the summer when we had all at least returned to the same continent to celebrate a tying-of-hands.

A week’s notice fete, however, was a little bit of a shock — all the more odd for the invite via the social network. I am not being critical of my brother’s choices in bride or marriage here. I just am rather incredulous and reeling from how it all played out.

Over the last week we finnally communicated (by email) and I then watched as posts and pictures popped up of the couple tying the knot. On Facebook.

Again, refer to title. Little strange, no?

Social Networks

I confess I have not always been especially close to my family. They have struggled to understand some of my life choices and, strong willed and self-protective, I haven’t always been the most forthcoming and explanatory.

I even joked with some friends over beers last night that of any of my siblings I would have pegged myself as the one to send an emailed picture from some far off corner of the world of me smiling under a wildflower garland, hands entwined with a tall-dark-handsome, with shaman and mountains in the background, saying “Guess what I just did? Can’t wait for you to meet him!”

So why am I so flummoxed by my this event?

After much reflection, my inner spinnings are not for the event itself, but the way it was communicated. While it amuses me to no end to think of what Emily Post might say, I just never quite expected such a story would come from my family.

I shared a house, meals, shouting matches, laughter, tears, and parental exasperation with my brother. I took it for granted that sharing of major life events would happen… well… differently.

Facebook is how you hear about your far-flung cousins or friends… not your siblings. Right?

Ah, those pesky Expectations, always the harbingers of inner disquiet.

Digital Disconnect

Is this is how digitally dependent — connected but disconnected — we are?

I spend a great deal of time in the online space. Here I sit, spilling my thoughts and feelings onto a blog to be shared with readers far and wide… and unknown. The latest post from Nial Doherty on what he shares on his blog versus not has added further fuel to my ponderings.

I share here more of my life then I often do with my family. I’m always a little surprised when I catch myself saying “oh, you didn’t know? Didn’t you see that picture or story? I put it on my blog.”

Know I cast not the first stone.

My friends and life supports — some of which I consider quite close and important to my life — I have only met once or twice in person and communication began and exists primarily via email, Facebook, twitter, blogs and GChat (that includes many of you my dear readers).

What I a trying to reconcile is how I feel connected to these acquaintance-digital–friends, yet I feel so disconnected to my brother’s marriage through shared via the same methods.

Is the Facebook invite any different then the communications of yore? Is it so different then a phone call? A telegram? A post card or letter? A engraved invitation?

Perhaps not.

Am I being a big ole hypocrite in my incredulousness?

Perhaps so.

We, as a family unit, have never wanted for abiding love for and support for each other. Through various skirmishes and distances, that has not changed. Maybe that is all that is important.

I wish I had been able to attend the BBQ celebration. I’ll toast my brother and his bride in person, as I have overseas, as soon as life allows. In my MSIT geekyness I’ll continue to ruminate on social media and the information age.

In the meantime, according to Facebook and instagram, the couple is in wedded bliss.

In the end, I’m happy to see those pictures and have that much participation in their new life together. At least our modern technologies allow me that much. Better than getting a post card or telegram weeks after the event. It is not what I expected mayhaps but is enough for this foreign corespondent.

Sempre Avanti,
Jo

It is now Sunday evening and it hurts to type this. Just breathing is laborious. Yet somehow I am determined to get this post up.

My “breaking spring” week toured 4 cities in 10 days. I didn’t realize how prescient I was being in my pun nor post. From Edinburgh to Lisbon to Tangier to Madrid, my friends and I had a whirlwind but epicly fun set of adventures. If you’re wondering, it is really by dint of cheap flights and happy accidental finds that we set our itinerary.

On the way we shared lots of laughter and beautiful vistas, each locale trying to best the last for the ultimate experience. I completely fell in love with Tangier.

The camel ride under a double rainbow might have something to do with my newfound love of Africa.

Yet I also just enjoyed being in such a different, bustling, alive place. We kept looking at each other and saying “is this real life?!” It was with sadness that we left after just 48hours. I am quietly ruminating on how to get back there for an extended visit/stay.

Labor

The week culminated hooking up with friends in Madrid yesterday. When we booked our tickets we found that it was cheaper to have a one day layover in Madrid on the weekend then to fly back to Florence. Then I found out there happened to be a GoRuck Challenge scheduled for that same day with two of my buddies from previous challenges participating. I love these events but given my most recent history, I thought about simply playing photographer. But I was cajoled into full-on participating by said “buddies.”

I’m the one who says “I’m in” right?

So after 9 days of travel to 2 new countries and a new continent for me, I found myself Rucking up at 7am on Saturday morning with a group of Spaniards. I’m rereading that sentence over and over, trying to figure out who wrote it. Is this really my life?

My aching muscles say “yes” but my brain still can’t quite wrap my mind around it.

After another few days and more sleep maybe I’ll have the words to describe how tough this one was for me. I wasn’t well rested, fueled or mentally prepared for it. After being concerned about finding bricks, I was carrying far too much weight in the form of a dumpster-find stone and team-provided sand. 4 Challenges in 4 different countries and I’ll say definitively was by far the hardest (we had 5 drops out of the class, I hadn’t experienced one previously).

Oh and 95% of the class was from the same Crossfit gym and spoke almost entirely in Spanish. GoRuck is about building a team and, while I made friends with a few of the others, wordlessly commiserating with the few other women especially, the language barrier meant that in addition to a physically demanding challenge, it was a mentally and emotionally isolating experience. That is all to say it was a tough one.

Just as it was for Tough Guy, it was my buddies — this time my friends Rob and Filip — that pulled me through.

The path of heroes

They encouraged with their laughter. They provided salt and a few winks when I desperately needed it. They spurred me on with their goading and chiding. Filip said at one point, when I was shaking from cold and exhaustion but refused to give up my Ruck, “she would rather die then show me weakness.” Damn straight.

Most of all, these two unbelievable men set an example that I tried to live up to. I don’t know how each managed to carry the stone that he did but if they were able to, darn if I was going to let them down. Getting updates on the first woman who ultimately completed GoRuck Selection from cadre helped significantly too. And she did the latter half completely alone.

“Inspiration” doesn’t begin to cover Paige nor the reminders that the cadre and our men and women in uniform do such “challenges” and more day-to-day with real life and death on the line.

Reminder of the smallness much?

While I might have felt isolated, I might have hurt, I might have had it tough, I knew I was ultimately making the choice to be there.

There were times I was trapped in my own body/head/emotions and those were the worst times. The better times — the best times — were looking out from under the brim of my hat and seeing friendly faces sharing the same experiences.

Really, the same went for the whole week.

It was shared laughter that made the camel ride truly epic. It was shared support that made the foreign comfortable. It was having a friend to tell me “yes this is real life” that made all the experiences real. 

For my friends I am eternally grateful.

My body rebels at the idea of taking on the next challenge but I will be back rucking up, this time in Dublin, in less than 2 weeks. There again I will be amongst friends, some new, some old, some somewhere in between. Being amongst them is worth the labor.

We are united by common purpose and will — by shared experiences. They are my crazy tribe. I am filled with gratitude that I found them and can be in their company.

Spring officially is broken.

Go. Find friends who make you better and enjoy life multiplied.

Sempre Avanti,

Jo

“Where do you think I should go?”

Spring break for our study abroad students starts tomorrow and leading up to it I have been asked many times what I recommend for travel destination. I have just one answer:

“Where do you want to go?”

There is no “should” here.

Just go.

Somewhere.

Anywhere.

Go.

So this linkage post is dedicated to travel.

Hop on my new obsession skyscanner.com (super fun is the “Everywhere” option) or kayak explorer to see what looks interesting and cheap. Do a google maps search and see what is nearby. Hit up Nomadic Matt, Chris Guillebeau, Art of Backpacking, Stuck in Customs, and/or Legal Nomads to find some inspiration.

Just pick.

Book it.

Then of course there is the “what do I do when I get there?” Do some research. WikiTravel, HostelBookers, Trip Advisor, Google that Sh*t. But know there isn’t really a wrong choice here.

Wander into things.

Go where your road leads.

Open yourself up to the happenstance. 

Let me tell you about this one time I wandered into Harry’s Bar in Venice and wound up finding where dude invented the Bellini and Hemingway used to hang, you know,on accident because we walked past and my friend said “Hey I think this is a thing.” Or the lunch in Parma, or the music in Praha, or … or…

Make good stories.

Just GO.

Be IN.

There is no should, only figuring that Sh*t out. 

–

Here are a few other things that have my cogs a-turning this week:

- Finding your Why?! (I’m still working on this one)

- Malala, Education and Inspiration by Zen Pencils

- 20 Truths about life (that nobody wants to believe)

–

Sempre Avanti

Jo

PS – A few more links: You can follow my adventures as they happen at my A Photo A Day project or in the Twitterverse. I’m heading to Edinburgh — Lisbon — Tangiers — Madrid for Spring Break. If you have any suggestions tweet me or leave in the comments!

PPS – If you do happen to want to see where I have been and what I would recommend, you can see the Google Doc I started for students here. Still very much a work in progress but will continue to fill in over the coming weeks.