Return of the Celtic Menace

Learning to speak a language is one thing, however after living in the community of Piegaro off and on for over a year now, people are not just asking about my learning of the language, but do I want to be Italian. I would never have thought that people who have an ancestry that goes back thousands of years in this countryside would ask a newcomer this question. Knowing so many immigrants over the course of my life in the United States, that seemed normal in a new country, but struck me as odd in this ancient land. How I got to Piegaro has been a subject of discussion for a while, we are all sure it is God’s doing, but why does this place feels like home is something some of us have talked about.

My friend and Italian sister, has been convinced for months that somehow my blood was calling me home to this place. Her first idea was that my place of birth being in Europe was important. Then came the issue of my brown eyes, which were not reflective the celtic and northern European lineage, I had decided they must be a result of the Roman conquests into Britain, but possibly the Spaniards into Ireland...and then, and then we did a little road trip from Rome north along the Mediterranean into Tuscany and back to beautiful Piegaro. Ahhhh, now my Italian sister is sure that my brown eyes are not Roman, but Etruscan which is why I am here, living in Piegaro.

In our travels north it was insisted upon that we visit a historical town away from the sea, Torquina. It is the southern-most Etruscan city, not in Tuscany or Umbria, but rather in the Roman state of Lazio. As we wandered through the museum there were the words that would be my new namesake “Celtic Menace” they had invaded from the north in the 4th century, and their influence is evident throughout the city. In Celtic style crosses, earthy/nature symbols, and in patterns in the stonework, their influence is easily seen.

This new story seemed to be the opposite of the rape and pillage image of Roman invaders leaving poor unsuspecting waifs carrying brown-eyed children into the family line. No my beautifully romantic Italian friend dreamt of a vision of the Celts coming into this land, loving its people and bringing them home to the emerald isles in their embrace. My newfound home of Piegaro is in the center of Etruscan lands, and my friend is sure that something in my blood flows from here. It is a very tangible and romantic view that could give me a literal history that would tie me to this soil.

Yet, my older lady friends don’t ask questions of heritage, they just ask if….if I want to be Italian. They seek to know how I feel. They are living very much in the present. They also have scolded me on a couple of occasions on my reaction to the overtly flirtatious things men say. They want to teach me not only the Italian language, but how to be a strong Italian woman, men would never say that sort of thing to them they say. WE need to teach you Italian! Beyond the words into the way of being, slowly they are doing just this is, as guide me through the fields in search of the food God has provided for free for the taking, in gathering in community to clean and sort such food for future use, and in the sharing of food, a café here, freshly prepared local specialties there. It was welcoming for me to be able to participate in these activities and for the women to note I did like their simple life, their life tied to the earth, and they ask, do you want to be Italian? I feel welcomed and blessed.

It is as my dear sister says, my blood has called me, my soul soars here. The Celtic Menace has returned and found a place among the Etruscans, a place where our worship is one long prayer of miracles, where our attachment to the earth is peaceful, and where the love of mischief and longing for relationship seem to go hand in hand. Ah those darn Etruscans, and those menacing Celts, it feels good to return to this soil insieme, together with my dear friends!
What do you know, or want to know of your cultural or historical background?
Who do you want to be?
How do you self identify, and see your soul in this identification?

Birds of the Air

Without tv here in Italy it is easy for me to look outside for amusement in the evenings, but made especially easy by the presence of the beautiful swallows who arrived in the spring. As I sit on the terrace watching the sunset they fly in amazing patterns and so close to me at times it makes me wince and grin in amusement. Their beauty, strength and precision are awesome. It is more wonderful than anything humans can create for television or other amusement.

It is not hard to feel the presence of God’s creation in watching them soar, dive and fly. Set this against a beautiful sunset over the rolling hills and it is not hard to appreciate how wonderful life truly is. For me it has also prompted the reflection on the passage in scripture where Jesus reminds the disciples that the birds of the air do not worry, why should we. Worry, one of the greatest preoccupations of humans everywhere, in economic hard times it is even more evident, causing disease, conflict and depression in people.
An easy word for me to remember in Italian is spero: hope, because it sounds just like sparrow the bird, and as I watch the birds in flight it gives me hope. Hope is the opposite of worry, it is the beautiful sense of promise and grace always with us. Watching God’s beautiful birds in flight one senses this promise and understands why Jesus would use these amazing creatures for this metaphor of hope, for a reminder to put aside worry.

Where do you experience the hope of God?
How do you allow the words of Jesus, of not worrying about tomorrow, to enter your life?
What do you think of when you see birds in flight, sunsets and other wonders of God?

Quick Update - Two weeks Speaking, Two weeks Silent

It has been two weeks since I last wrote, and two weeks since I actually started speaking Italian in public. It has been a great time of reflection and living in the moment, something that was my goal for this Sabbatical time. Much has come from this gift of time God has given me to be in rest and prayer. The greatest reflection is that I am definately coming back, I have my return ticket. The second reflection is that I will be returning to the faith of my family, of my ancestors and will be converting to Catholicism here in Italy upon my return in July. The cultural difference between Piegaro, which is a unique village in Italy, and the United States is vast and what my heart yearned for for Sabbatical, but also for life and living.

In the past few days as I prepare to return to Seattle my friends here have noted that I look tired, which is very true, the thought of returning to what was my life in the states is tiring for me. I am so excited to see my kids, whom I miss terribly, but I can say the most alive I have felt in years was in having Katy with me here and in sharing my friends and life with them via Skype. To introduce my precious children to my new community has been the greatest gift. The combining of my greatest loves.

It is a life of promise, hope and miracles for me. Do I know what is going to happen tomorrow or the next day, NO...do I have romanticized ideas, NO....heck I don't even have romance, but instead there is a love of God and place that is always feeding my soul here. Thus, there is promise, hope and miracles do happen.

It will be good to be mama for my baby boy as he celebrates graduation and faces surgery in the coming weeks, to be with my daughter again is always a gift: I will always belong to my children.

Life is new for me here, a resurrection of faith and hope. God is Good Everyday!!