It Ain't Me, Babe
Letter #53: Welcome to what nearly 2 months in Italy has done to my brain--brace yourselves. If you want a shorter read, skip this one. 😅
9/6/23
I need to take a moment to reflect on all the thoughts going through my head the past couple weeks. Typically, I write out each post in my journal before I type it up on the computer. It is time-consuming and inefficient, but, for the same reason I enjoy sewing, when I work with my hands the creativity flows much more smoothly. It takes me anywhere from 4-5 hours, I would estimate, to put out each post. Maybe longer in some cases, especially when I recorded the experience at Dhamma Shringa Vipassana Meditation Center.
This particular post, Letter #53, took me about 8 hours. The act of writing it out by hand first, then copying it onto my laptop, adding links, images, and scheduling has been the one consistent “job” I have stuck with over the past 9 months.
And 10 months now I’ve been traveling! Maybe you’ll be able to see a difference, I would be interested to hear if so, but I am writing this one out directly onto my laptop. **Edit: the second half I wrote out by hand because my laptop needed to charge.** 😆
I had prepared a journal entry about my time in Reggio Calabria, which I hadn’t even completed yet, and my time there was from July 15th-20th. So, as you can see, I’m way behind in recording my time in each place. Instead, when I sit down with my journal, I have a momentary mental struggle over whether I should write about the present or go back to record the past. I want to do both at the same time! But my hand can only move so fast. So my journal looks like a hot mess, entries started and unfinished because there are so many days to reflect on. Present entries that I began, in the feverish desire to record the growth I was experiencing in that very moment…and then was distracted by a social invitation or a “working on the farm” obligation.
Next to Palestine, my time in Italy has been the most socially active of the entire trip. Which is interesting to be me because, with the exception of Hilary being with me for the first week, I don’t know anyone in Italy. Well at least I didn’t when my traveling began. Through a combination of several things (making ex-pat friends in Pari, WWOOFing, and a couple Tinder dates), I have made a ton of friends here. In fact, there are a couple of women I met in both Bali and Nepal who also live in Italy whom I have yet to visit. So, in fact, my network in Italy is growing.
Perhaps it’s my longtime obsession/dream of a life spent as an American ex-pat living in Italy, thanks to these 4 films specifically: Under the Tuscan Sun, Call Me By Your Name, Eat Pray Love, and A Bigger Splash. (The next dreamy ex-pat life would be France: By the Sea, The Hundred Foot Journey, and Midnight in Paris.) I realize the mention of these films doesn’t make me sound particularly cultured or intellectual, but I’ll go batty for any drama or rom-com set in a European country. That is your cue to send me more recommendations.
But, anyways, this little dream that so many Americans speak about—ahhh the sheer and utter bliss of living the relaxing, retired life in a Tuscan villa—drew my curiosity to spend the most time in this country out of all the countries in my entire trip. I’m coming up on two months and absolutely would be happy to stay longer. Or forever.
While I am completely enamored by the food, the inexpensive and quality offering of wine (compared to the US), the juxtaposition of the pride of the people and also the seemingly troubled ability to keep the some of the small town cultures alive, the sing-song nature of the language, the colors and architecture of the medieval towns, and the dynamic offering of the landscape in a relatively small country (compared to the US)…I think the word that best describes my time here is community.
In Pari, I met a woman named Daniela, who was visiting from Austria. This was during my second visit to Pari—yes, I went back. And while I’d like to keep all my posts in chronological order based on how the experiences occurred, I can feel this tension bubbling inside me where I really need to write out what my present thoughts are. It’ll help me have a better understanding of what I’m learning about myself along the way.
Anyway, Daniela had this quiet, calm presence about her. In some ways I might think we were opposites (and after what we discussed, I think we very may well be—she a projector, me a generator), but I believe that’s what made our connection possible. I found myself struggling for answers about why I had come back to Pari. There was a draw to this place that is hard to explain through words, and yet I am nowhere near the only one that felt it. Hilary felt it. Daniela felt it and was also back on her second visit. I believe most all of the ex-pats that return to Pari can feel it. The town and its people are very welcoming. It’s beautiful, it’s clean, it’s quaint.
On my third day back in Pari, I ended up having lunch with Daniela, Todd, and Gary. I’ll tell more about how and why we met for lunch in the actual chronological post (where I will also share about my time with Jenna and Julie ❤️), but I just want to explain where the discussions with Daniela began to take place.
The four of us sat down for lunch while Pixie—the cutest pup in the world—sat quietly in my lap. She and I had just gone for a 4 mile run and she was dog-tired. I hung out with these intellectually spiritual people for a good 3 or 4 hours, interested in the meandering conversations that stemmed from their collective interest in the work of David Bohm and the center established by F. David Peat and Maureen Doolan—The Pari Center—to continue the exploration of “promoting the work of David Bohm and C.G. Jung and building on David Peat’s respect for Indigenous Knowledge and his concept of Gentle Action.” Honestly, I’m still completely unsure of who the physicist David Bohm is—I plan to watch a documentary on him very soon—but the importance of mentioning this is because, whether or not I find a genuine interest in the mix of physics and spirituality, it has brought together a group of people I would have otherwise not found, and this group of people is teaching me something about myself.
Over a post lunch coffee, Daniela began to speak to me a bit about the Human Design Chart. I don’t know much about mine except that Katlin, my spiritual buddy, had asked for my initial details a few years ago to see what type of design I was (birthdate, birthplace, and hour of birth). Allegedly, I am a Generator and knowing that can help me learn more about myself and why I function the way I do. It reminds me a bit of the Merrill-Reid personality and communication styles I’ve worked on with my dad—a description of your personality type as predominately Driver, Analytical, Expressive, or Amiable, and how it can help you best communicate and navigate all relationships in family, friendship, and work. It is the way my family speaks of each other, in terms of our personality types, and so we know each others’ strengths, weaknesses, and can estimate how each person will react in any given situation. We’ve been speaking about Driver Expressives and Expressive Amiables for so many years that I can typically pinpoint what my closest friends are without them needing to take the test.
Knowing that I’m an Expressive Driver (strengths being that I'm sociable and take action, weakness being that I’m afraid of not being liked, and afraid of being taken advantage of) has helped me observe my own behaviors in both social and professional settings from an objective point of view. So adding another personality type descriptor into my repertoire intrigues me.
I still understand very little about the Human Design Chart, so I won’t butcher it by trying to describe it to you here, but Daniela said, if I was interested, we could meet later that day to discuss my chart together. So, I went back to Julie’s and showered the sweat off from my run, rested my eyes for about 20 minutes (it’s so interesting yet exhausting to sit in on intellectual conversations), and then met Daniela over at Jenna’s.
She pulled up my Gene Keys profile as well as my Human Design Chart. I saw a confusion of numbers and colors and pathways mapped out across a human body—something my mind couldn’t even begin to understand. But Daniela’s calm and patient nature gently navigated me through a beginner’s understanding of what I was seeing. She repeatedly assured me I was asking good, targeted questions. She also repeatedly mentioned she believes it is important NOT to observe someone’s chart and tell them WHO they are and WHAT they are to do, rather guide them towards their own understanding—take what resonates with you and leave the rest.
And so, in my frenetic search to get some answers and find some clarity over “where I’m at” in this stage of the journey, I want to reflect on a few of the key takeaways from my time spent with Daniela that day (and, ultimately, my time spent in Italy).
She noted in the chart how my energy centers are defined (activated) mostly in the lower body, in my core being, indicating I may be deeply rooted in my physical body (the self, sacral, spleen, solar plexus, and heart), although the root center remains undefined, meaning I may put pressure on myself to stay busy and get everything done so that I am free of stress. Regardless, reflecting on my genetic makeup in this way helps me understand why my body needs to feel daily movement, the need to feel my heart beating, the need to use my physical energy to feel alive. And, in contrast, my intellectual (head and ajna centers) and expressive (throat center) are undefined. She explained that I may not engage much intellectually, as that is not where the energy is so strongly activated in my body, but that due to the numbers that ARE activated within my head and ajna centers, I like to receive information, allow what resonates to stay, and then discard what doesn’t.
That explains so much to me—whether our assessment is totally accurate or not. It helps me understand (and now accept) why I don’t have a strong inclination towards many of the intellectual things that I feel I should— museums, continuing education, and, perhaps, even the intersectionality of physics and spirituality. Or why I hate math.
But, more importantly, she shared with me that the activated energy throughout my body indicates the importance of community for me. She delicately drew the conclusion that perhaps the reason I returned to Pari wasn’t because I was drawn to the intellectual exploration of David Bohm and his theories as presented by The Pari Center, but rather by the people of Pari themselves. The community—somehow steeped in the spiritual simplicity of human kindness and interconnection—I witnessed between both the locals and the ex-pats made me happy, made me feel all warm inside, and I wanted to be around that community again.
So it didn’t matter that I wasn’t genuinely drawn to learn more about The Pari Center in the same way as so many others in the village, because it was ok that I was just interested in being around the people that inhabited that place.
It also helps explain so many other aspects of my life. I don’t identify with the rules and conventions of organized religion, but what does resonate are the values and principles that encourage humans to live together in harmony and love.
It’s why I stay in such close touch with my best friends back in the States. Each of these women providing me with community—a space to feel welcomed, loved, and supported in a way where I can fully express myself.
And maybe even explains why I’d rather spend my afternoon abroad sitting in a bar or restaurant, observing the interactions of the staff and the locals, rather than observing the modern art at the locally esteemed museum. I gain a sense of inner peace from being among the energy of human connection, even if I am not directly engaged in it. And, yet, even better if I am, which is why I came back to Pari, to spend more time with people that I somehow felt would understand and accept me.
One other conclusion—I think, upon meeting me, most people would assume I love yoga. Even I think I should love yoga. But I rarely ever do it. If my energy centers are so focused on the physical movement of my body, then perhaps it makes sense why I crave going for runs outside. Sure, they kind of suck and are hard, but I need to feel my body at work. I need there to be some impact, some pain, true physical exertion to feel lit up from within. I even prefer the weight-lifting HIIT class type setting—lifting heavy things to feel my body growing and working hard—over yoga. It doesn’t totally make sense because I know yoga is a brilliant workout, but maybe understanding where my energy is activated helps me understand why I gravitate towards other things.
The only time in life where I consistently went to yoga is when I went to the cheapy night classes of hot yoga at Yoga to the People (that apparently faced much scandal later on and anyway the room smelled of sweaty feet). It was only a block from my old job and the room was packed with bodies, the gruelling temperature up in the 90s. And while I’ve heard criticism that hot yoga is unhealthy, regular yoga just doesn’t light me up in the same way. Sure, I may feel calmer and more connected to my feminine energy post yoga sesh, but my physical body isn’t exhausted and isn’t sweaty enough to feel that energetic connection I crave.
I actually feel a bit panicky on days I don’t plan to exercise and while that may be because I’ve built up a healthy life habit, it could also very well be explained by my Human Design. And if you’re the type of person that dreads working out, dreads physical exertion and sweat, couldn’t that also be dictated by your Human Design, and thus something you can seek to find peace with in saying “sorry, but it ain’t me, babe”?
Now I find myself saying “it ain’t me, babe” about a lot of things. When, before, if I felt the societal pressure that I SHOULD like something, or that I SHOULD be good at something, I’d try my damnedest to make that thing a part of my identity.
Like the time in 6th grade where, because I loved music so much, I thought that surely I should be a guitarist. 🤦🏻♀️ I was terrible at playing the guitar, and I’m sorry, Dad, that you invested in those classes and the equipment—but I STILL have the deepest appreciation for music. (I should also apologize for you putting me through modeling classes. That was obviously not meant to be in my life’s plan.)
Or when I thought I should really truly love the free-spirited hippie life of going to festivals upon festivals all summer long, when in fact I need a warm bed and some quiet solitude at night to be happy the next day. And if I couldn’t have those things, well then I had to be a bit inebriated to put up with the lack of energy I had from being around too many people for too long. Otherwise I become weirdly withdrawn and anti-social.
Or why I thought I SHOULD LOVE TEAM SPORTS!!! 😫 I’m actually not at all good at throwing or catching a ball and I’m self-conscious about it when asked to play ANY sport. But I’m athletic so shouldn’t I love playing?! Well, it ain’t me, babe.
Or when I thought I should WANT to climb the corporate ladder in order to improve my reputation and a receive an ever-growing paycheck in the demanding and fast-paced work culture of NYC…!!! 💸 Actually, going back to team sports, I hate competition, and the dynamic I witnessed of people throwing one another under the bus in order to get ahead was more than enough to make me throw in the towel. It was ugly and it felt all wrong.
Or why I thought that being an artist meant I had to be good at drawing and painting—both of which I’m provably NOT good at—but it wasn’t until the past couple years that I embraced that I AM a good artist because I’m good at crafting things with my hands. And that I’m a good designer not because I’m brilliant at web design and computer graphics (both of which I’m horseshit at), but because I’m good at coming up with solutions. And problem-solving has SO much to do with being a designer.
Something about going through the minimally basic aspects of my chart with Daniela gave me some relief. I could take a deep breath and find comfort in knowing that there’s nothing wrong with me if I don’t like the things I think I should like. And, instead, gave me the confidence to embrace and focus on other aspects of my design, like my need for community.
There were a couple notes that really stuck with me when reading the descriptors for my Gene Keys that I’ll also share.
My Life’s Work:
“You will have to keep letting go of the traditional views of family, marriage, business, and social structures. (!!) Through you, a new vision of community wants to come into the world. This means that you must work deep within the community, even though you may sometimes feel limited by its outmoded ways. Your job is to be ahead of your time, to be a leader and visionary bringing new social values and ideas into people’s lives.”
Part of the reason I needed to break away from my regularly scheduled program (of posting chronologically of my days on the road) is that I need to further digest where I’m at along the journey of figuring out what I want to do next in my career. I thought it would be so clear to me by now (among other things I thought would’ve occurred after 9 months of self-discovery), and yet I still do not have a clear grasp on the “YES! THIS IS IT!” But at least I can narrow my focus a bit in that if “IT” isn’t centered around building a strong community, then I’m not interested. Even writing that out, admitting that to myself, lights me up. So I’m onto something here. I have some ideas about what that may be, but I’m a bit gun shy to share it publicly (but something along the lines of influencing a change in management and leadership styles to foster kinder, more supportive and balanced environments. I sound like my dad.)
My Radiance:
“As someone with a diversity of interests and people in your life (both true), there are certain needs you have that are essential to your inner stability. The first of these needs is your own physical space where no one else has any form of influence. This space then becomes a symbol of a unified hub within your psyche as well as being a practical need for the work you do. The importance of such a space cannot be overestimated in your life. It is your body that needs it more than your mind. The second main requirement is company. You are someone who needs to work in close harmony with others who are on the same track as you. If you feel isolated in your direction, then you will lose energy and your health will suffer. Those close to you, both at home and at work, must share your enthusiasm for what you are trying to achieve. When this is the case, your energy for getting things done will increase.”
This first part EXPLAINS SO MUCH. I constantly daydream about my past apartments in NYC where I lived alone. I miss them so much—the routines I had in my solitude that I so looked forward to choosing from in my free time.
Do I sleep in late, letting the sunlight from my eastern-facing Prospect Park apartment windows wake me up? Then lay around in bed for an hour or so, texting friends and planning out my day?
Or am I coming home to my Clinton Hill apartment on a Friday night, no agenda in sight, and so ordering my favorite Thai takeout and loading up a movie on Netflix so I could cuddle with Coogs on the couch while drinking wine? This event was typically followed by half a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half-Baked ice cream. (I haven’t shared much about Coogs yet, but I wrote something about her during the Vipassana course that I’ll share soon).
Or will I be taking a mid-day bath at my Prospect Park apartment, candles lit, book in hand, Fela Kuti jamming out from the bluetooth speaker? And when I become too warm, I’ll head over to my bed and continue reading, a glass of wine resting on the bedside table.
I can think of SO MANY scenarios of how I most loved spending all hours of the day in my quaint, cozy, eclectically decorated apartments, where I could be by myself, constantly playing different music over my beloved Bose speaker. The security of those places made me so happy, and right now there is so much uncertainty over when I will have that next solo place. In fact, the most reasonable path for me after I return to the States in November would be to continue drifting from friends’ places around the US, with my parents house in Wisconsin being my landing pad, until I save up enough to live half my life abroad, the other half in the US.
I feel too uneasy about settling down in one place in the US to make any long-term housing commitment. Luckily, I have my own space at my parents that feels uniquely my own, but I do feel a bit anxious at the thought of never having my completely anonymous, wholly autonomous New York City solo-dwelling apartment again. I LOVED that life.
The second part of My Radiance is my need for company. This helps me understand why I felt so ill-at-ease in so many work situations. If the collective whole isn’t about creating a harmonious community for those we work with and those we serve…then I feel icky. It goes against the grain of my genetic makeup and I can see that now—I understand why I had to leave.
So, maybe this time, as I’m searching for my next career move, it’s less about the actual work being done and more about the community that's doing it. Is it a place where I feel supported, like an equal, and where we are doing work that improves the lives of others with minimal or no negative impact on the surrounding environment? And if it’s not? Well, then it aint’ me, babe.
The Balance of the Feminine and the Masculine…
And the last thing I want to mention is that in the audio recording about the 37th Gene Key, Richard Rudd explains how important it is to maintain the balance of the masculine and feminine energy. It was something a friend explained to me back in Bali, where Canggu fed her masculine energy—the drive to work on projects, to collaborate with others, and engage in endless amounts of social activities. And Ubud fed her feminine energy, where she could retreat inwards, reconnecting with her own spirituality in reflective solitude.
This revelation of how important the balance of these yin and yang energies is for my genetic makeup has been a recurring theme this year. It’s why I couldn’t be 100% happy living the career driven life in the concrete confines of New York City (especially when I wasn’t living next to the park). But also why I know with certainty that I would not be 100% happy living on a remote farm in the countryside (and WWOOFing provided me with that experience). I need my life to be lived in both places. Not in the steady monotony of a suburb (which I know is the perfect place for many people!), but splitting my time between the two extremes of a fast-paced, frenetic city life, and the silence of nature in rural countryside life.
And now, what to do with all these recent revelations that Daniela and many others have helped me realize over the last couple weeks in Pari? I’m not sure except to sit with them, to let them soak in. To take all questions and opportunities that arrive in the near future and check them against these truths that I now know about myself. To rest in the newly gained confidence about my true nature.
And that if something isn’t resonating with me, I don’t have to force it because…it ain’t me, babe.
Hey! Would you like to connect over creativity, self-growth, and problem-solving? Or just to have a virtual glass of wine or mocktail? Please book a time on my Calendly for us to chat! I can’t wait to see you. XOXO.
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I so understand wanting the crazy city life plus the quiet rural! But not the suburbs. The dream, for me, is getting access to both.