Back In The Saddle Italian Style

Someone once asked me: Clover, what would make you happy, really happy? I don't remember what I answered, but just what I thought. The thought of happiness came in an immediate rush of images - Mozart's violin concertos playing in the background, a lovely breeze spreading itself over a nicely made-up bed, roses in a vase, good friends in my kitchen making something delicious to eat. I'm sure there's much more than that, but these are the things that make my heart feel light. Are these stock images, or do they hold sway somewhere in a yet to be announced future. I sometimes get mixed up with what has happened, and what I want to happen. Maybe, that's why lying has come easy to me, and why, I have to sometimes fight off the impulse with everything I've got. I want so much to happen to me. I want to be happy, I want to will it. And now, without extending the truth at all, I am happy. I'm in Italy, have been for nearly two months, and I find that my day-to-day is brimming with sunshine. Can a change of scenery change a person's outlook? Maybe. Or has my outlook changed? I don't know. I don't think I ever will, but I do know that I was suffering in my hometown that I once loved so much; that I was festering. Nothing was changing, and yet the need to be happy was ever present. I don't have that pain in my neck and shoulders anymore. I'm sleeping better. Is it the Italian mountain air, the love put in the food, and the wine? Is it a stranger taking my hand to assure me that all is okay, or a person I've only exchanged two words with kiss my cheek, not once, but twice. There's a warmth here that I have never known in my birthplace. There is a love of life, a love of doing nothing, a love of taking time to have a coffee, a cigarette, a kiss, a walk, a meal, a sleep, a dinner. Nothing is rushed here. This is what I needed. Leger. The French would say. Take it easy, Italy keeps whispering in my ear. You're fine, you're out of danger. Don't look over your shoulder. Relax. Sshh. Enjoy your glass of wine, enjoy your meal. Don't worry about your weight, you're fine. Open the window in the morning, and look forward to the day, and sleep in peace when day is done. No rat race, no bitterness, no anger, no paranoia, no nothing. Breathe easy. Breathe deep. Study the lovely chocolate wrapper, look at the ribbon that wraps up a cake that you're bringing to a friend's house. Observe the snow-capped mountains. They're all around you. They're protecting you. I'm been brought back to myself, and for that Italy, I am eternally grateful. I'm back in the saddle. Italian style.