And so, I am officially back from my trip to Florence, where I was able to see some of the world’s most increible works of art. Boticelli, Lippi, Giotto. They were all in Florence for me to see. I travelled 3 km up (and I mean UP) a mountain to visit the tiny town of Loppiano, the first of Chiara Lubich’s ‘Focoloare’ Mariaopolii. Ponte Vecchio, Palazzo Vecchio, Santa Croce, Il Duomo. All of these incredible things were there or near for my eyes to witness.
And so, on my way back to Rome, I sat there and I thought heavily about all that I have been blessed to see here in Italy. In less than two months, I have seen things I have longed to see my whole life. Things I was sure I would ‘just absolutely die’ after seeing. Seeing Cecilia Bartoli, especially. And then, as always, I surprise myself. I have to say, for the record, how hard it is for me to admit to this, because it will sound like ‘sacrilege’. Equally so, what I am about to say doesn’t mean I feel any less blessed by the beautiful events I have been able to live through. As a matter of fact, I feel as though they have been, and will continue to be turning points in my life, from which I continue to learn.
For a long time, a great big piece of my life, I had prepared for all the beautiful things I would one day see. All the countries, all the paintings and sculptures. I had prepared and thought about over and over again how I would feel when I finally had the chance to see Cecilia Bartoli. I had fawned over being able to see art such as Lippi’s in a way I can’t even begin to describe. To be cultured and finally have a ‘real’ sense of the meaning of life, because in my mind, once I saw all of these things, that were my everything, what else would matter? And then none of that happened. I went, I saw, and while there was so much beauty to see, all inspired by God, the difference was this: These things are no longer MY God.
It’s such a difficult feeling to describe. I don’t want to make it sound like any of it made sense to me at the time. In fact, I can recall sitting there watching Cecilia sing and thinking to myself, ‘Why am I not more excited? I have been waiting for this moment for so long!’ or seeing Lippi’s art and thinking, ‘Why is this painting not speaking to me???’. All of these feelings, in a way relieving, but in a way causing a great deal of artistic/emotional distress. ‘What’s wrong with me I am an artist!! I am supposed to love this so much more than I am loving it right now!’ And then I figured it out on that long train ride back home and all the time in between I had to think, to pray. ‘No. You are supposed to APPRECIATE art, not allow it to take over your life.’
And so it seems that this is one of the main things I have been given in Rome. The grace to begin to understand the place of different things in my life, and the patience to know that all the time I spent obsessing over music was not in vain, because it is from there that I have been able to slowly learn how to really appreciate God. That if you truly open your heart to God’s greatness, all other things seem so small in comparison. So so small, that you begin to be afraid and think, ‘What’s wrong with me?’. The answer is of course nothing. You are just beginning to really love what matters.
Much much love. Always in my prayers.
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