Buongiorno! First Day in Italy…

Of course I was at the airport way too early. I waited there longer then I was on the plane to Rome. No matter – better early than late. I might have had time to take the first public transit train at 5am, but instead I spent 8 times as much on a taxi at 4am for the peace of mind of being there on time. Flying within Europe though, means a lot less line ups and hassles – I didn’t even need to show my passport once I landed in Italy. Traveling within the EU certainly has become easier.

I had a great flight – 1.5 hours. There were no movie screens, but I didn’t need one. The scenery was spectacular –  a meditative show reminding me of how small we are on such a big beautiful planet.

I looked for my ride after claiming my luggage, but couldn’t find him. He had been described as a big teddy bear and very Italian. That discounted a lot of the tiny men in suits with printed signs lined up at the arrivals door.   When I got to the end of that line up, I stood there a couple of minutes and saw someone coming my way with a big piece of cardboard. It was facing him, but I thought for sure that’s something an ashram/art studio would do. He too was surprised at how fast I’d made it through. Bimah, one of the creative artists from the ashram’s kitchen, had gotten up almost as early as I had to drive the 2.5 hours to Rome to come pick me up. I’d heard nightmare stories about public transport in Italy, and so chose to arrive with ease and grace on this Sunday and pay for the ride instead. I’ll take the train or bus back, but appreciated the ease of transition into a new culture/country/experience. The ride was wonderful and I got the kind of introduction to the country that no public transport provides. One can say “Wow!” a lot in 2.5 hours. Holding my big heavy camera out the window and trying to shoot something on the other side wasn’t very successful (the Romans didn’t build their aqueducts as crooked as one appears here!), but fun nonetheless.  Here’s a glimpse at what I saw outside the windows of our moving car. The last shots are of Assisi.  It was only one of the many small earth-tone towns that sat on a hilltop during this trip.  Assisi is part of Umbria, about halfway between Rome and Florence.  It’s absolutely beautiful, and I’m told quite similar to the neighbouring Tuscany, where many artists go to create.

Remember, if you’re on the website itself (vs. email), you can click on the first photo and navigate through each gallery at full screen.

We got to Ananda Ashram (30 minutes from Assisi) just in time for the Sunday 11am service – another advantage of getting a ride.  Had I come by bus, I would have arrived at about 5pm. The lovely Anandita at reception took down my information and helped me up to the top floor to my shared room (3 beds & a balcony) and showed me where the washrooms were at the end of the hall. I then met Dana, the Creative Director at the Academy of Arts, Creativity and Consciousness.  She graciously introduced me to folks, showed me the small farmer’s market and then led me to the temple.  That’s where I found out that in Italy, things rarely start on time. There’s an active community here and lots of guests who had just finished a week-long chakra yoga intensive. The ashram is very busy at times with its retreats, workshops, etc.  I’m told the dining room is as full as it was this Sunday through July and August with all the guests staying on site in the main building, camping in the forest behind, or sleeping at the dormitories 15 minutes walk away.  I almost stayed there, but am so glad I didn’t.  Again – ease and grace as I experience life at the ashram to the fullest.

The service was beautiful – an east meets west feel, as Dana describes it. I had expected Sanskrit, but everything was either in English or Italian– most often both. Some parts were delivered in both languages, or I could hear the English simultaneously translated on my headset or read it in their booklet. This helped my ear get used to Italian. I could guess many words with my background in both French and English.

The service had a very Christian feel and of course, the sermon was totally appropriate for what I had been experiencing this week – lots of talk about “the real world” and “delusion” and how we often have those two mixed up. It was right in line with my fears and insecurities about returning to “the real world” in a month when this year of art studies overseas comes to an end. It helped me re-frame that and remember that life is indeed as I make it. This was also in line with the Hicks Abraham videos I had been watching this week to help me regain my faith in myself and the future. Sounds dramatic – I tend to express myself that way at times. It makes for a more interesting read.  It wasn’t so bad – just a mental hiccup. Jesus is indeed one of the gurus for the Ananda community.  There’s a line of gurus, that also includes Paramhansa Yogananda, whose  “Autobiography of a Yogi” , I had thoroughly enjoyed and been inspired by in my Spiritual Leadership classes during my Masters of Education program years ago. His direct disciple, an American named Kriyananda founded the Ananda communities in 1968. Their “non-sectarian teachings embrace the truths that underlie all the great religions.”

After the 2 hour + service, it was feast time. Delicious vegan and vegetarian food served cafeteria style in a room with a spectacular view. I’ll enjoy having 3 all-you-want-to-eat meals a day here, designed to feed the body, mind, and spirit (prepared in the yogic tradition). Have I ever mentioned I hate to cook, but love to eat?  Well, I do.

I took some alone time after lunch – I’d been on the go since 3am. After unpacking, I headed into the surrounding gardens and woods with my camera.

Along the way, I met a lovely man named Helmut who came here from Austria by car. We talked about Vienna for a while (in English) and then he mentioned that he was going to the vespers at San Damiano church if I’d like to join him and 2 German gals. Absolutely! That was also the name of my room. What I’d forgotten is that it was the church that Saint Francis rebuilt, almost from the ground up, after he “saw the figure of Christ crucified come alive and say to him, “Francis, don’t you see my house is crumbling apart? Go, then, and restore it!” “. I’d seen it depicted in the 6 or so movies I watched on his life in the past couple of months and so leaping from movie world to the actual location was awesome. It’s also where Saint Clara died, but the room where that happened was closed for the evening. I’m told I have to go back to experience that. If it’s anything like the church itself, it will be quite the experience.

I’m getting ahead of myself though. We left the ashram in the warm sunshine with rumbles of thunder in the distance. Half way to Assisi though, we got caught in a hail storm and had to pull over under a tree to save the car. What rain too! Once back on the road, we decided it was no use walking around the church in the pouring rain and just drove around. Police were guiding traffic at one of the tunnels that was starting to flood. We also saw a sewer grid on a country road get pushed up at a 90 degree angle by the gush of muddy waters spewing out of it. Quite the adventure and of course, I took pictures from inside the wet windows.

When the rain slowed down, we stopped in town for ice cream, but I was still full from lunch.  It looked great though….

It’s hard to describe what I felt inside the church. For the first half hour, the nuns, Franciscan brothers, and a handful of tourists and community member recited the rosary (at least that’s what I believe it was – I recognized the cadence and some of the words, but my Italian is near non-existant). As I sat there, the energy was so strong that my head  pulsated uncomfortably. I had to remind myself to breathe and to let the energy flow through me, not resist it.  Once I did that, my whole body was vibrating in the energy of Saint Francis and Saint Clare – very powerful indeed. When the vespers started – with its prayers and chants (I loved signing in Italian as it’s quite easy to read – very phonetic), I felt simply grateful for the “chance” meeting in the forest that had led to my being here on my very first night in Italy. The bird songs filled the church and my being during the silent meditation times – reminding me of how each movie I saw had depicted Saint Francis’s relationship to the birds in different ways. I strongly resonate with his love of nature and its creatures and could just imagine him running barefoot through the hills and fields filled with wildflowers of all colours and shapes. It feels great to be here!

Back at the ashram, we ate the very welcomed meal that the kitchen workers had put aside for us. I was asleep before 9:30pm and before my German roommate had finished packing her bags.   I dreamed a lot that night.