It’s getting old, this extreme cold, and we’re very tired on a physical level.

But enough complaining.

The flip side of extreme isolation is interesting. It’s like I spiritually needed to pull back and go deep.  I cannot remember a time when I have felt more in touch with who I really am. Maybe it’s the silence and the complete lack of outside activity that has brought a new level of realization.

I’ve been writing, throwing pots, cooking and learning. Daily activities are reduced to the essential. In the undisturbed hours of the afternoon, I’ve listened to my own inner voice, finding the answers to questions that are simply not there when there’s too much noise around me.  The brilliant Arctic-like sun sets in the back window of my studio, and my plates, unfinished and raw, glow a golden light as if illuminated from within.

I see  the direction to move towards creatively. I’ve had time to scan websites full of creative ceramics and have been inspired again and again.  Your comments here on my blog show me what to write for you, what ideas might help you to move toward your own creativity.

I’ve had an abundance of intense silence to focus on Your Truth,  and I see the ebook coming together in a way that exceeds my own expectations. I don’t know if that would have happened had I not had this quiet time. And in these ice-and-fire filled days, I’ve come closer to being able to  share with you very exciting news about my upcoming novel.  It’s been an amazing time.

I’ve  had long Skype conversations with internet experts Marcus Sheridan and John Falchetto, two incredibly talented and generous guys,  about marketing and the future, but also about artistry and creativity.  There have been hours, many of them, sitting with my husband listening to classical music and talking.

Every day is such a treasure, and while being stuck on a hill for weeks might not be anyone’s idea of a good time, it’s given me so much to be able to be with myself in an intense, quiet way.

Italy, once more, gives me what I need, right when I need it.

For years, I blocked the idea of being called an artist. I didn’t feel the quality of my work qualified me for the title.  I’ve worked for years perfecting a craft, and I felt I could take on the word craftsperson far more easily than I could accept artist. But I’m softening to the idea. Not because I think I’ve reached some new height with my talent, but rather because I’ve broadened my personal definition of artist. Here it is:

 An artist is someone who creates something where before there was nothing.

Armed with this definition, I’m an artist, and guess what?  You are, too.

When we put aside our fear and embrace our vulnerability, moving forward step by step, we create what was not there before.  That’s how the world has always been.  Someone takes the spark of an idea, carries it out to the next step, and soon, after days, weeks, or years of thought and action, something new results.  The Pyramids.  The cocktail of drugs that keeps HIV from killing people.  Panels that collect the sun and produce electricity.

All of those, and many significantly smaller achievements are artistry manifested.  Human beings, given the right tools, will create the most miraculous things.  The problem is, we don’t give so much of we do enough credit. We create things from nothing every single day and consider ourselves the most uncreative beings on the planet.  We create and mould and foster life when we have children.  We nurture and help ourselves and others to thrive when we cook. We bring a new idea to life when we help a friend make a decision.  We are creating from the moment we wake to the moment we sleep, and don’t think we’re artists unless there’s a painting on the wall with our name in the corner.

We create with our hands and our minds.  We create with our thoughts and our deeds.  We are born creating and don’t stop until we’re pushing up daisies.  We manifest newness by focusing energy.

When I view myself like this, I see my beautiful old home that we’ve so painstakingly restored, I see my pottery and my writing, I see my family and friends, I see my loving relationship, and I think, it’s all art, isn’t it?  I’ve been put here to manifest these miracles.

I am an artist.

You are an artist.

Something from nothing.  Miracles from nothing.  That’s what we humans create, every day of our lives.

It’s really not that hard to embrace the possibilities that this day offers. Cultivating habits that move you forward and into the world around you are fundamental if you want to maximize your creative energy, create a new direction for yourself, and enjoy yourself in the process.

Get out of your own mind and off your butt.  It is time to go do. Go do your dream, go do your work out routine, go do the things that will set you on a course that you want to be on, instead of the one you feel powerless to change.

Go do!

Wake up to a quick meditation.  Prayer, a moment of silent observation, a chance to give thanks.  Call it what you want. Even if things aren’t going your way, be grateful that you get to wake up again and give it another shot.  Because I promise you, time is the biggest gift you will ever be given, and each of us has only a finite amount of it.

Down a glass of hot water as soon you get up.  I take mine with a squeeze of lemon.  It gets your metabolism going, cleans out the organs, gets things moving.

Stretch.  Get blood moving through your muscles.  Work out the kinks. It’s easier to be positive  if you’re as pain free as possible.

Open a window, stick your head outside and breathe in some very fresh oxygen, even if it’s freezing cold outside.  Let some of that fresh air into your bedroom (do this again before you go to sleep, getting fresh air into your bedroom before retiring) and the rest of your abode.  Changing up the air is good for you.

Check your emails and respond only to what you must.  Then get away from the surfing capability of your computer. It’s passive entertainment, just like watching TV, and will only serve to make you isolate more from people around you and not hear them.

Forget TV for the most part. If there’s something great you don’t want to miss, make note of it and leave it off the rest of the time.  It will kill your brain, and make you a slave.

Limit your on-line work time.  If you work on line, make sure you break every 50 minutes and take ten minutes off. Step outside.  Breathe fresh air.

Stay open to energy coming your way.  Don’t block new ideas or criticism or things that you can’t seem to understand.  Instead, let those things flow through you, to you  Keep what works, let the rest go.

Look for connections.  Timing is everything, it’s truer than you think. But if we don’t pay attention to the signs that are around us all the time, we can miss golden opportunities that present themselves to us. Look for things that hook into facts that you already know.  Be aware of chains of events that might seem coincidental but are new possibilities, presenting themselves in costume.

Be observant. Notice what’s going on around you, what people are saying to you.  Don’t discredit things out of hand.  Be thoughtful with regard to your daily transactions. Don’t create unnecessary hurdles.  Seek out the easiest way to get things done.  Listen to people who make sense.  Be willing to learn.

Don’t be a cynic. Don’t be sarcastic. Sarcasm just sucks when it becomes a lifestyle choice.  It makes you  an energy suck. And don’t talk about your friends or family or coworkers as if they each have a million teeny faults that drive you nuts. None of that makes you seem smarter or snappier or more interesting, believe me. I mean, do you want people droning on about how you never seem to have a nice word for anyone?  No?  Then cut the sarcasm.

Be nice, and mean it.  It’s a habit, just like being scared or being mean or being impatient.  And it’s a good habit.   Get used to it.  Nice people are fun to be around, and don’t suck other people’s energy.

Get off of the complaining bandwagon.  There is nothing more addictive than bitching about things.  Here’s a word of advice:  do with bitching what most of us did with smoking cigarettes.  Just quit it.  If there are problems you need to talk out with someone, you know who you can trust to listen.  Go to that person.  That’s not the kind of complaining I’m talking about.  I mean the kind of complaining that spins perfectly normal activities into daily pains in the butt.  Leave it.  Everyone has stuff.  No one needs to hear yours.

LISTEN. Stop talking so much, and stop thinking you know everything.  You will be shocked to find out what you still have to learn, and the best knowledge often comes from people you would least expect it from.

Smile.  It’s free and lets people know you’re approachable – unless you prefer to be thought of as cut off from the world and unfriendly.  Then by all means, don’t smile.

Even creative work requires frequent breaks.  As a potter and artist, I have to take care of my body because the work is very taxing on my neck and shoulders. Plus, walking away from creative work periodically, whether it be writing or artistic endeavors, gives you a much better perspective when you return and see what you’ve done.

Take a moment of silence before going to bed and give thanks again.  It’s not such a big deal.  Just look at your day, the moments you’ve had, and be grateful. You are immensely lucky to have had the day today, even if things didn’t go gangbusters.  You can learn from what went wrong, and take tomorrow on a wiser person.

Wake up, rinse and repeat.

Now go do, would you please?

Your turn.  What habits are you cultivating to get your life where you want it to be?  Share those things here, with us at A Certain Simplicity!

A fun, interesting, and very busy season.  We had so many great guests this year, and spent so much time laughing and talking.  I thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart for adding another dimension to this adventure we started seven years ago.  The conversations, the philosophizing, the copious bottles of wine poured at sunset…it was a pleasure to have the privilege to host you during your days in this indescribably beautiful country.

Lots of pots.   I made and sold more pots this year than ever before.  They flew out as soon as they came out of the kiln, making me feel very good about the direction of my work. Thank you for making me feel that my work is worth owning and having in your homes.  I’ll be getting busy shortly, stocking the coffers for the new season and to re-stock my on-line shop, which went down to empty as a result of guests buying up my inventory.

The gift of writing.  I am so happy I had the chance, in 2012, to complete the first, second and twentith draft of my first novel.  It’s now out to a few choice readers for some direct critique before I dedicate myself to getting it published.  I’ve been soaking up all kind of information about publishing, such as listening to this conversation between Leo Babauta and Seth Godin, reading everything I can by Noah Lukeman, and in general making sure that by the last day of 2012, this book is solid, print worthy and something that people will enjoy reading.  Disciplining myself to write a novel from start to finish was one of the best things I’ve ever done for so many reasons.  Now I really look forward to getting it out there.

You, you, and you.  My beloved blog followers and readers.  It is with both arms that I hug each and every one of you.  I am sorry that I am inconsistent at responding to comments, because each one means so much to me.  You’ve given me so much more than I could ever give you.  All I can say is thank you for taking time and for being exactly who you are, a diverse, warm, open-hearted group of people with dreams and desires and creativity at such a deep level.  It’s my firm desire to take this blog to a new level in 2012, to make it shine and shimmer and give each of you more inspiration every single time it lands in your inbox.

The health of my family and friends.  My mother and my brother-in-law have remained cancer free this year.  My friend Gina DePalma fought back ovarian cancer once again and has been declared cancer free. Micha walked away uninjured from a serious head-on collision in June.  All in all, not a bad record.  I stopped eating gluten in July, lost weight and picked up some much needed energy.  Life, indeed, is good.

To my circle of friends: thank you for listening, caring, and being my strength, for your endless empathy, understanding and love.

Und Micha, ohne Dich geht es überhaupt nicht. Du bist mein ein und alles.

I join, a little too late, a group of wonderful bloggers in Italy in expressing gratitude for the gifts we’ve received:Letizia from   Madonna del Piatto, Rebecca at Brigolante, Gloria from At Home in Tuscany, Melanie of Italophile and Jessica from Why Go Italy.  These bloggers make up a group called the Italy Blogging Roundtable. Sorry that I’m so late with this, ladies, but better late than never when it comes to gifts!

For this, my last post of 2011, I want to wish each of you a beautiful holiday, celebrated just the way you want to, quiet days with friends and loved ones, and joy, joy, joy.  I’ll see you back here in the first week of 2012 with more inspiration, more simplicity, and more creativity!
Be well.

Love,

Diana

top row, left/right: cobalt glazed bowls

second row, left/right: contrasting green and chartreuse bowls

third row, left:  wave bowl, chartreuse

third row, right: brilliant red muesli bowl

fourth row, left: wave vase, chartreuse

fourth row, right: frilly fruit bowl, chartreuse, venetian glass

fifth row, right/left: small bowls

It’s the month of the solstice, the short days of the year, when the flickers of candles glow against walls and we allow ourselves to indulge in a bit more food than we actually should. We welcome visitors with cinnamon and nutmeg laced teas and cookies.

December days are not days to be muddled through, although if you turn on the TV and allow your brain to get wracked with manic advertising about all the things you’re lacking, you might very well think so. The commercialism will do nothing but exhaust you and make you feel like you need to buy more to be “ready”.

But the fact is, you’re ready already. Giving comes from a completely different place than Target. Make some cookies for your neighbor. Stop at a local artisan shop and pick up some hand-rolled beeswax candles for your best friend.  Give your mom a special family photo framed in something pretty.  A special roll of yarn in a shade you know your cousin would love to crochet a scarf from would bring her great joy.

Honor the Winter Solstice.  Open you heart to friends and family.  Let bygones be bygones and pledge to love and not to judge one another.  Shut off, as my mother would say, the idiot box and go out for a walk and look at the beauty available to you simply by stepping outside.

Sing.  Play the piano, if you can.  Light candles.  Wrap yourself in a blanket and write your cards. Remember, with great clarity, the nice things people did for you this year and be grateful for their love. Don’t complain how early the darkness comes.  Light your life with a glow from inside.  Invite friends in for a cocktail.  Stock the freezer for the first snow.

Here is my December gift to you.  The amazing George Winston and his rendition of Johann Pachelbel’s Canon and Variations.

After seventeen years at this expat game, I’ve had my share of friend requests. Not Facebook, mind you.  I’m talking Americans, Brits, other native English speakers who believe that they and I might really have something in common simply by nature of a shared common language. This has always baffled me.  I mean, turn around and look at the person next to you on the bus. Do you really want to go have tea with her, let her into your life, show her pictures of your childhood only because you can conjugate the same verbs as she? This has, at times, given me a not-great local reputation as a curmudgeon who doesn’t like to socialize. Nothing could further from the truth. I’m just picky.

Truth is, I’ve never been very good at being a participating expat. I make friends with people I have stuff in common with. Their passports just don’t matter to me. I don’t seek out Americans or Canadians or Brits. I need to have basic philosphical things in common with people I make the effort of befriending at this point in my illustrious expat experience, regardless where they were born. It’s sort of a prerequisite.

Chemistry, friendship, respect, just liking one another grows over time regardless where you live, and with on-line cultivated relationships, it’s even tricker and requires more of a sense of really understanding who in fact you are tangling it up with.

Back in 2005, I was trying to get my brain around internet marketing and how to get my little B&B on the map when I came across a blog called Bleeding Espresso. Back then, it was revolutionary, at least for me, since it was written by a clearly brilliant woman who was American but living in Italy, and incorporated so many different jewels of life in Italy that I kept going back, a little intimidated at first, to read more and understand how reading her words somehow reflected what I was feeling myself.

Between then and now, Michelle Fabio and I have become friends in the most natural and organic of ways – over time – out of a common viewpoint and outlook towards this experience we call the expat lifestyle. We’ve shared hundreds of emails, have sat at the same table together. I have come to view Michelle as someone I trust, someone with whom I share much more than a common language. We’re two Pennsylvania girls hell-bent on living life on our own terms. Having said that, we are completely different (for example I’m old enough to be her mother, not that there’s ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT and she also raises goats, which I love to pet as long as they belong to somone else) and it is those differences that make me value her insights even more.

Over the years, Michelle has brought Calabria alive for me. Its scents, its scenery, its flavors. I’ve watched Michelle’s writing change and grow and meander into areas that her conscious, simple, focused lifestyle has brought her, full of love for where she is and respect for all she is surrounded with, but always steeped in reality and a sense of pragmatism that makes her writing completely accessible for me. She is my anchor in the southern part of this beautiful boot we call Italy. Without her writing and her friendship my own expat experience would not be complete.

But it doesn’t end there.  She’s carved out a niche for herself as an expert freelance writer in so many different genres (including the law, that Esquire after her name isn’t for nothing) that it’s safe to say that Michelle is constantly stretching and exercising stimulating her mental and intellectual palate while immersing in a pristine, simple, nature-based life in the hills of Southern Italy.

I asked Michelle a few questions that I thought my readers (and hers) might be interested in having answered. So here you are, our beloved Michelle Fabio deconstructed.

I remember seeing Bleeding Espresso for the first time years ago and being in complete awe at how sophisticated it was.  You were one of the first expats in Italy to have a polished, professional blog that blew everyone else’s away.  tell us a little about how BE came to be, where it started, where it is now and where you see it going.

Thanks so much for the kind words! *cyberblushing* Now, walk with me. I moved to Italy in August 2003 but didn’t have the Internet at home until the summer/early fall of 2005. All of a sudden, two years into my life here, I had a direct, instant connection with other expats that just hadn’t been possible during my limited Internet sessions before that, which were mainly focused on catching up on emails from family and friends back in the States and finding and sending work assignments.With the extra Internet time, though, I started reading blogs and then emailed some of the writers (one of the first of those was Sara at Ms Adventures in Italy). It didn’t take me long to realize I wanted to join the club, so to speak. I also wanted to build a platform for myself to boost my freelance writing career, and a blog seemed like a great way to do that as well. Another plus was that I could share my thoughts and experiences with family and friends back home — this was before Facebook really hit it big.Turns out the blog was an awesome way to develop a freelance writing platform (I’ve gotten several job offers just based on my blog), and it’s also connected me to an amazing network of people going through similar experiences not only in Italy but all over the world — and not only as expats, but just as human beings. It’s turned out to be less of a vehicle to keep in touch with family and friends than I thought, and has gradually become more of a place where I can dig more deeply into how I ended up here, what I’m doing here, why I’m still here, etc.

Through the years of having the blog, I’ve connected with so many people who have either made a similar life change or would like to, and I hope that by working through my process in writing, I can provide comfort, support, and guidance so readers know they’re not the only ones struggling with certain issues and that nothing worth having is attained overnight or easily.

So yes, the blog has grown with me, and I expect it will continue to do that.

How does a nice young lawyer from the coal mining region of Pennsylvania end up with a life changing passion for Italy slash Goats slash writing slash living a self determined life begin?  In two hundred words or less. Ok, two fifty.   HA.

You know, it’s funny but if I go back to the things I really enjoyed as a child, writing and animals would be right at the top of the list. In a strange way, I kind of feel like I’m coming full circle, having taken a rather large detour to law school. But I’ve always been a person of wide interests, curious by nature, so dipping my hands in so many pots along the way (and continuing to do so) makes perfect sense to me even if it maybe looks a bit odd from the outside looking in.Some things have just grabbed me more than others, and I continue with those. Writing was certainly the first from when I wrote short stories as a kid, then genealogy research was a big deal for me for quite a while — which is how I ended up here in southern Italy. I had found all the hard, cold documents I was going to find on my Italian side, and I was ready to see things in person.As for living a self-determined life, I’ve always been introspective and curious about how the mind works, why we do the things we do, how our experiences affect our decisions, nature versus nurture, all that good stuff, and there’s no better subject than oneself — we have constant access!

So this process has been as much of an intellectual journey for me as anything else as I continue to place myself in the middle of some pretty strange experiments. Not that I’m calling my goats strange, mind you. How did I wind up adoring goats? A little kid named Pasqualina tugged at my heart strings from the moment I finally got her to take a bottle; I’m a goat girl for life now. Can’t help it.

You literally dreamed up Personal Statement Artist one night after which you and I engaged in a lengthy chat session.  You’ve since turned into into a reality.  How is it going with your first clients and have you had any other interesting dreams that lead to an immediate domain name search?

I’m taking a break from domain registration and site-building for a while — she says tempting the fates to throw another idea her way. But PSA is going pretty well, definitely better than I anticipated for getting into the game just as law school application season was starting. I’ve really enjoyed working with my clients, and I look forward to expanding the site by next year’s cycle with an e-book dedicated to writing law school personal statements; at that point, I envision the consulting services will be the compliment to the book as opposed to the other way around.

You’ve recently written a bang-on post about living deliberately when your loved ones don’t get it that stresses how critical unconditional love and non-judgement is in all of our lives. How do you think expat life has changed you or how you view things?

For me, choosing to be an expat was the impetus for my understanding that some people aren’t going to support you (me) if they don’t agree with your decisions. It’s my own fault, really, as up until that decision, I had always done the “right” thing — did well in every level of school along the way like a smart girl should, made Law Review in law school, passed two bar exams the first time, snagged a prestigious clerkship with an appellate judge, blahblahblah. But then I jumped off the track before I got to the house in the suburbs/SUV in the driveway part, and some people didn’t get that — and still don’t get it. Or care to get it. Thus that post.

My experience of losing support because of other people’s closed minds has, in turn, made me much less judgmental about how people choose to live their lives. I also feel like I’ve become more empathetic; I think once you’re faced with situations you could never have imagined facing in a million years, you begin to realize that you never *really* know what someone else is going through, what’s going on in their heads and hearts, what influences their decisions, etc. I’ve always been a fairly empathetic person and a good listener, but because of this experience, I think my ability to connect with other people emotionally and spiritually has gone even deeper and onto another level. And I think my personal relationships, the ones I’ve been able to build on, have benefited greatly from it. Added bonus is that I’m just a calmer person all around since I’m not worried about what everyone else is doing and how I can “fix” them.

 

I see this when I look at photos of people who I know to be beset with suffering, but they still smile, as if in smiling we hold personal stock in the knowledge that everything will be OK.

I see this when I look at my beautiful mother, who at eighty-five has a good word for everyone and how everyone, in return, has a good word for her.

I see this in the intentions of kind-hearted people whose ability to forgive and move on seems to border on the saintly.

And I see this in myself and my (relatively) new found desire to recognize goodness for what it is – the ability to infuse joy into the lives of others, or at least to try.

There is enough pain, suffering, sickness, dissatisfaction and hurt in this world to last us through eternity. In short, our desire to break through and help the suffering of others, with whatever means we have available to us, needs to be greater.

On this very special holiday that Americans call Thanksgiving, make it your personal quest to bring happiness, or joy, or a smile to someone you know who is in need.

Spread optimism.
Eschew sarcasm.
Rebuke cynicism.
Embrace naive joy.
Tell someone you love them when it’s hard to say, not easy.
Pray for someone you know doesn’t like you – for their health and well being –  in a way that has nothing to do with their feelings for you.

And be thankful that you are in a position to do so – that your health, your spirit, your heart are big and well enough to be open for people who need so to be blanketed by someone with a big heart, a big spirit, and vibrant health.

And don’t do it because you think you are selfless and important. There’s nothing that makes us feel better than making others happy, so consider it a wonderful, selfish act. And do it because you know that everyone out there is just as important as you are. Because without each other, it would be a very lonely planet.

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends, buona giornata di ringraziamento, with all of my love from my peaceful hill in the Italian wine country.