Summary

The web content is a personal reflection and love letter to Venice, detailing the author's emotional journey, memories, and lessons learned from a past visit and the impact of not returning as planned.

Abstract

The article is a heartfelt tribute to the city of Venice, encapsulating the author's deep emotional connection to the city's charm and the bittersweet feelings that arise from reminiscing about a transformative visit in December 2021. The author expresses regret for not returning to Venice as promised on their birthday, acknowledging the pain of unfulfilled expectations but also embracing the growth that came from this experience. The narrative weaves through the beauty of Venice's canals, carnival masks, and the enchanting atmosphere at sunrise, all of which have left an indelible mark on the author's heart. Despite the physical distance, the author finds solace in cherished memories, souvenirs, and the taste of Venetian candy, while learning to navigate the complexities of their emotions, expectations, and the unpredictability of life. The piece concludes with the author's acceptance of the present, a commitment to live more consciously, and a promise to continue writing about Venice until they meet again.

Opinions

The author holds a deeply romantic view of Venice, describing it as uniquely seductive and mesmerizing.
There is a sense of personal growth and self-discovery stemming from the author's inability to return to Venice as expected.
The author expresses a desire to have learned the "map of emotions" rather than geography, indicating a value for emotional intelligence over factual knowledge.
The author reflects on the importance of gratitude, compassion, vulnerability, and peace, suggesting a philosophical shift from historical knowledge to emotional and spiritual wisdom.
The article conveys a profound sense of longing and a bittersweet longing for Venice, tempered by the acceptance of life's uncertainties.
The author acknowledges the pain of not fulfilling the promise to return to Venice but is thankful for the lessons learned from the experience.
There is a recognition of the futility of dwelling on history when it perpetuates pain and terror,

Venice: Memories And Lessons Of An Inward Journey From Outside Travels

Letters Before Bali

“I will never forget experiencing Venice for the first time. It feels like you are transported to another time — the art, music, food and pure romance in the air is like no other place.” Elizabeth Barkley

Absorbing the charm of Venice canals — December 2021

Venezia, amore mio!

Today was supposed to be about our reunion.

You — a city like no other, me — a human like all humans, chaining us in a dance of love under the masks of carnival.

But today you are where you are, welcoming and seducing other people with your masks.

Carnival masks from a local shop — December 2021

And me?

Well, as I write these lines to you, if I look towards the window I can watch the snowflakes coming down from the sky. But I’m turning my eyes inside the house, to look at the flowers I received today from my loved friends and to get my senses drunk with my second cup of coffee for today.

At the same time, I cling as hard as I can to the emotions experienced that morning at sunrise and to all the other feelings felt among your channels.

Right now, with my mind’s eye, I see again the moments of a journey that seems to me, more and more, like a dream. To get closer to these memories and to you, I unwrap the last untouched souvenir, a sour candy from Limonoro (the most delicious shop), and I let myself be carried away by the taste.

I remember you, Venice, being seductive, fascinating, mesmerizing. You tear down all my expectations, you drew me to your depths, you made me fall in love with you.

I know! I promised you I’d be back and we’d meet on my birthday, but we’re far away today. Unfortunately, I have become too attached to this promise. I was stuck in my own thoughts and not knowing how bad it was for my heart.

I regret our non rendezvous. However, I promise you that I am forever grateful for the last December.

You see, it was better when I didn’t set expectations at all. Because that’s the only way I could lived you in a state of constant euphoria.

Now there are hundreds of longing hours since our time we’ve had together.

I confess to you sadly, there were days when I blamed myself for not being able to stick to our plan.

I suffered thinking I didn’t deserve to see you again. But under all these thoughts created by the mind, I (re) learned a lesson that maybe you would not have given me.

Um, how strange it feels to wander through this adult life.

If I went back in time I would like to be able to choose, instead of geography, to learn the map of my emotions.

I would like to know the path from anxiety to peace. I want to know how to breathe normally, without the numbness of my mouth and tingling in my feet. I need to know how to identify the old toxic patterns I no longer need. I want to identify the moment when I make expectations over expectations and detach myself from them.

And if I were to go back in time, I would choose to practice gratitude, compassion for other people, vulnerability, peace, generosity instead of history. What good is history if some people still want to relive the pain of our grandparents and bring terror?

Do you see, Venice? I think I would have come to you with a heavy heart, because the atmosphere here is oppressive. We relive the uncertainty, we are afraid of what the future holds for us and I, to my shame, complain about your longing.

So, I take a deep breath and hold back my tears with a bittersweet smile.

I give in to the will of the present and life. I receive the lessons I have to learn, I reveal myself in writing and I offer myself to the world in gentle words.

But first, I take every moment at a time, I listen carefully, I charge my energy with what is good for me and only with what makes sense for my soul.

I accept the uncertainty.

I accept everything.

I release myself from expectations.

I get rid of the noise, especially the external one, to the heaviness of “must to”, of the attachments.

So, Venice, if we meet again in this life, I will live you even more beautiful, more assumed, more conscious.

Until then, I’ll write about you a few more times.

il tuo,

01–03–2022

Letters before Bali