Thoughts About Transitions.
Making it happen by shifting into new eras of life.
Dear readers, where does the time go these days? In the blink of an eye, we entered, yet again, the last season of the year.
Stores are full of orange merchandise, pumpkin-flavored treats are taking over the pastry window at cafés across the US and the early morning breeze is slowly getting icier. It’s that time of the year when, as my elementary school teachers used to instruct us, we have to dress like an onion—in layers.
It’s also that time of the year when memories of the days spent basking in the sun on a white beach are close enough to make us squirm at the thought of our morning commute to work, but far enough that we dream of our Christmas break.
If you are in elite circles, Invites to join your rich friends at their winter cabin are starting to roll in. Cortina D’Ampezzo if you are in Italy, Aspen if you are States-side. It’s time to put our linen dresses away and make space for cozy sweaters. Did you get your comforter cleaned? You may want to get that done ASAP.
It’s cuffing season too! If you are not coupled up, this is the time to start looking for a cuddle partner.
If that’s not your shtick, then gear up! Because family reunions are right around the corner, and if you are showing up unaccompanied for another year in a row, you have to be ready to catch some strays (especially if you are over 30).
If you are a freelance contractor, an independent agency, or simply somebody who does not have a full-time job, you are most likely chasing payments for the work you did in Q3, hoping these transactions clear in time for the next round of taxes.
No wonder people get seasonal depression around this time of the year. It’s the hardest season of the year. But at least, the wedding season is over; you may, however, start seeing pregnant bellies pop up on your timeline.
Personally, I am about to face the nth move of my life. This time, though, it was totally my idea. There’s no ulterior motive—namely school or work opportunity—besides, hopefully, starting to mold my future into the shape I always dreamed it would look like.
How does one overcome that sense of uncertainty that comes with packing up our belongings and closing a chapter of our life that’s served its purpose? Am I making the right choice? Am I ready for the blank page that’s opening up? Will I be able to “make it” away from the place I learned to call home for the past 5 years?
These are just a few of the many dilemmas that have constantly been buzzing in my head ahead of this endeavor.
And it’s not like I am moving somewhere unknown, I am actually going back home. I am taking the reins of my family empire! Jk, but also am I?
I am moving into my family home, a slice of paradise in the very center of Palermo. Will I ever get commissioned work again? Who cares! I am building my own opportunities—what’s better than that?
My own transition made me reflect on moving and the temporary chaotic environment it breeds. It’s daunting, exciting…a blur.
A friend of mine, Diane, recently gave up her very comfortable NYC life to move to Italy–she had a great job, a great apartment, and a tight-knit group of friends who supported her through her 20s, 30s, and various changes in life and careers. She chose to give all of that up because she met somebody worth the pain spawned by having to navigate an international move with no relocation agency. Nobody set her up with a nice apart-hotel or held her hand through the process (besides her soulmate obviously).
She did it to follow her heart, to find a different type of fulfillment. The type of comfortable feeling that only true love can give you.
She’s been very open about the struggle that comes with such an undertaking—her Instagram stories are a testimony to the lessons she’s learned and the run against time (she’s currently on the quest of gathering all documents necessary to elope with her significant other so that she can stay in Europe with him.)
When she first told me about this, I didn’t think too much of it other than feeling utmost admiration for her determination.
Her ability to make it all seem like a beautiful romantic tale belonging to a heartwarming Hallmark classic kept me on edge like an engaged watcher at a small, independent cinema—only, I could engage with her, ask questions, and blab at the screen without being told off.
The way she discussed her lover online is golden too; she described him as her rock, the moon to her sun, a precious gem she found on the beach after discarding a bunch of rundown rocks. He’s somebody you’d want to meet.
I invited these lovebirds for dinner as I hadn’t seen Diane in months. We missed each other during my last period in NYC as she was prepping for the move and I was on the run for my projects. She looked so elated to be here with him, like 200 pounds had just dropped from her shoulders. Her face was glowing, a smile frozen on her face.
In hindsight, I don’t think it’s grit that got her through the move, nor the adrenaline rush that comes from change. I realized that maybe what allowed her to keep her head above water even when there was a 2-hour long line at the Poste Italiane—or the endless Italian bureaucracy became too frustrating—was the opportunity to break down in front of her significant other if she needed to, and he’d be there to wipe her tears and promise her everything will be fine. And how beautiful is that?
How great is it to be able to move through these quicksands we call life with a supportive significant other, or friends group? To have somebody ready to pick up where you left off, to clean up after you spill the milk?
I can get quite introspective and philosophical when a specific life cycle ends. Each time, I gain a little more clarity on what I want in life. It happened when I graduated college and moved back to Italy from Los Angeles. It happened when I got my first job in Germany, and it happened once more when I relocated to Dubai and back to Europe. Each step marked the start of a new era; it defined a moment of regeneration and growth, the establishment of a new “boundary”.
Not the type of boundary you put between yourself and people, but the type of brick you lay to build a stronger house. You know, to make the foundation sturdier and able to hold against any bad weather.
If I stop and think about it, it really makes me feel powerful—like wow, I did it once again. I am sturdier, more refined, wiser.
Settling feels warm and cozy, but it’s transitioning that helps us grow.
Sharing Is Caring:
The work of Gabrielle Brown.
Bodies: a great book by Susie Orbach about body perception and the way media has essentially convinced us we are never good enough.
This interview I did with Thebe Magugu for Season Zine.
SeekinAmour: a beautiful new brand by two great brothers.
- : David Eardley’s personal newsletter.
Hi Naomi,
We share the same uncommon spelling of our name in Italy and apparently similar life journeys in some respects. Honored to follow your reflections on your journey back to your roots.