Passing the Time, Passe l’tempo

Several of my friends in Piegaro have used the term passe l’tempo in regards to how I use my time for simple pleasures, the same as its translation in English: to pass the time. The difference to me is how Italians find importance in passing the time, whereas in America when we meet people we often ask about their work. It has been a blessing to take so much time for just BEING here in Italy, with less time for work.

What I realized in my usage of time was how much similarity there is in my life here and my life in America, of course, because I am the same person. There is much time spent in the church, and hanging out with my friends from church. Daily time is spent walking and simply enjoying God’s creation, as well as people- watching and admiring how folks interact and live more fully when in relationship, and surely the greatest joy is to join in the interactions.

When I downloaded pictures of the past month I noted how special time was spent, in the presence of artists creating, in watching athletes engaged in sports, and in savoring creation both in nature and in the halls of museums. It is all about the beauty of God’s creation and the beauty we create physically as those created in the image of the great creator. It is a beautiful life to behold.

And yet, as I was in America for three weeks I realized that passing the time seemed different. It was easy to see more discord in my observances on walks through the city streets as well as the suburban byways in greater Seattle. We seem to have evolved into a culture of “us” and “them” that keeps everyone in a state of fear and tension. There are right and wrong ways to do everything, very little middle ground seemingly always 2 sides: Liberal or Conservative, Democrat or Republican, Consumer or Green, and the list goes on. A walk to the beach in Edmonds led me to two groups of protesters lining the entrance to the ferry, one anti-war, one pro-military, 10 senior citizens scowling at one another behind their signs while waving to the people getting on the boat. Other people walking by made comments, all the while expressing which team they were on. It was as if one must have a side in this matter, either for us or against us, animosity seems the norm. It is so easy to get drawn into the pattern, we all seem to do it..... Even movies and television reflect this sense of competition and need to be right or number one, no place to simply BE.

It tainted my sense of the beauty within creation and it seemed one step away from the beauty of creation in the Genesis saga, more like Cain and Abel. In these people on the street, in facebook postings, even in some of the art exhibits and worship times, there is a sense that opinion is more important than the sacred and sublime. Passing the time in America is not nearly as relaxing or peaceful as it is in Italy for me, it simply is easier to live and be here in Piegaro. However, it makes me chuckle to know that one of the blessings of Italy for me is my blissful ignorance. With my limited vocabulary, my conversations have been limited. It is easier to learn the vocabulary of what is important to me, and let other words slide. I have had discussions that would be polarizing here, on topics of politics, but what I find more interesting is that people are ready to chime in that politics are messed up everywhere, that poverty is a travesty in a world with enough food, water and essentials for life for all, and that all know we are in a crisis and are bracing to deal with it the best they can.

At the same time this is a less violent culture, this is a place where people help one another and share the bounty of their gardens with one another, where it has been easier to avoid all the conflicts and strife that are experienced in American life. It made me feel as if we, as a people, need to get back to the practice of passing the time as a place to relax and see the blessings of God. If for no other reason, than for our spiritual and mental well-being, to calm our worries and angst, to realize we truly have abundance. When I walk in Seattle I see beautiful mountains, the waters of lakes, rivers and seas, and the lush greenness of trees, all so beautiful. When encountering a friendly face, a cheerful “hello”, or welcoming a short chat on a bus it is a spot of graceful relationship that is so needed in a rushed world. There is so much beauty to behold and blessings to name, and blissful reminder that every kind action, word or deed I share adds to the whole beauty of creation. I can be a reflection of the wonders of creation with a sweet passing of time. Though it is easier in Piegaro to pass the time, any part of the world is a great place to be.

How do you bring your faith into the simple acts of life and love? How do you experience the blessings that surround you? How do you see yourself as one of the many, many blessings of this world? Where is it easier to experience your faith, where is it harder and why? What helps you in finding blessings in the harder places

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Looking... Back

My friend Maria Pia told me at one point that, like me, she had grown up poor, and thus had little education and knowledge. To which I answered she was very intelligent and through her stories it was evident that she had been studying history for years. She is the keeper of many, many photographs telling in pictures the story of Piegaro. I felt her statement of little education was a test or check, if you will, for she then spent the next months on our walks telling me various stories of Piegaro, sharing her knowledge, teaching me much.

One of her favorite photos is of the old commune building (town hall) which was blown-up by the Germans who had occupied the village during WWII before they left town. It was a beautiful building that inspired the imagination of Romeo and Juliet with the little balconies that adorned its walls with their intricate details. At the end of the triangle shaped building was a beautiful fountain and monument to those who died in WWI where many young men from this small village lost their lives. It was to be the ultimate war, its loss seemed to be ultimately poignant and fraught with meaning. The loss of the commune and all of the records, the loss of the memorial were significant, the only one to die in this village during WWII was one German caught in the destructive forces of the explosion they wrought, but there is a sense of the destruction of these structures going deep.

For what was taken from the people of Piegaro at this time speaks to the heart of the wisdom that my friend Maria Pia carries, which is that history and the story of people expressed in place is rooted to the soul and our deeper stories of life. They replaced the commune building and memorial in a style that many call Mussolini, after the person who invited the Germans into their land, their architecture reminds many of the occupation, which they say came with the fascists first, and their vulnerability. The new structures are often called ugly, and out of place. It too is part of their story.

What is beautiful about Maria Pia’s pictures and stories is that they are not stuck in the past, but that she also shows her new pictures, which are equally, if not more important. The pictures of the nipote, the young ones in the family, the young children in the village are looked at every time the pictures of destruction are seen. She has the wisdom to constantly have the hope before her. The story continues with beauty. More than this, she notes the pictures of old that have people whom I know, or know their children or grandchildren. Life continues, the story continues.

This is such a reminder of our place in eternity, in which our lives are intertwined in the past, in symbols of the greater story, and of the future we see in children and babies. When we know that the story goes on, that out of tragedy life continues, we know grace. She reflects the wisdom of Jesus who would often use historical context, the symbol of the temple (as a building), and children as metaphors for deep stories, important stories. Through use of pictures and stories Maria Pia shares deep wisdom.

Where do you experience the wisdom of others? How do you experience your own wisdom? What are some of the defining stories of your life’s story?