I love Italy. I truly do. Countless times we’ve been told there is no place like home, and I can testify and support that thought like I can scream my own name to the world. After travelling to many places and falling in love in different corners of the world, I can’t hide the fact that being back always brings a happiness to my heart in ways that can’t even be described.
Don’t get me wrong – it’s not about not being able to be away. I could easily and gladly spend months, even years of my life, in other places. I have done that with the UK, I could do it right now if I was offered the chance, on the hunt for something new to call home even just for a little while. There is something about being able to move away, start anew, that excites me, bringing a thrill that I am constantly craving in life. However, I can’t deny the fact that Italy is something that I could never completely let go of.
Some might say I am really lucky to have been born in a developed, relatively successful country, the winner of a randomised lottery which placed me in an advanced part of the world. I see it when I travel to lesser developed countries which, although absolutely stunning, have people struggling more than we do. I see it again when I see hoards of immigrants trying to make their way into my country, looking for something more and a place which will finally give them what they deserve. I am absolutely not trying to brag or put myself on a higher level, but merely stating a thought which is universally acknowledged.
This morning I woke up in Rome, where I am visiting my mother for a few days as she’s been working here for quite some time. As I lit up a cigarette and had my morning coffee, I just couldn’t help but think how lucky I was. Not because I am from here, or because I could just chill in the morning lights with not a care in the world – that’s not what I am talking about. As I contemplated my situation, I realised I was in freaking Rome – one of the epicentres of the world – a place of history and life, the city where most of our cultures started and an international hub which to this day brings millions and millions of people each year to admire its landmarks and ruins. A piece of our past and a piece of our present, if you will, showcasing the roots of our societies and exhaling history with every breath taken.
I thought back on all the people I have met during my travels, from other European countries to farther away lands, their ways of living and their ways of life. I even thought back to my friends, back home, some of which never really go out to see the world either because they think they can’t or they simply don’t care. I thought back of all the times I bashed my own country, thinking I could get out and find something better, something which could give me more. Through time though, I realised that the “more” I was talking about didn’t exist: each place has got its own characteristics, good and bad, and we just gotta learn to live with both. There is no perfection in this world and no safe heaven we can run to when everything goes wrong. We just gotta make the most of what we’ve got.
Being here, in this moment, made me realise one thing: it doesn’t matter where you are or what you do, there will always be something you want to change and always something which makes you extremely grateful to be in that precise place surrounded by all the things you know and have learned to accept and love. We can go on for hours about wanting to leave it, move away, do something better, but the reality is that we all just need is a reason to stay. As I woke up in this magical city, which I love with all my heart, I realised I am lucky because I have finally learned to accept it and I can now see how fucking blessed I am to have all these things around me.
In this this blog post , I talked about the unfairness of feeling entitled to a land more than another, somehow calling a country ours when in fact it’s just a strip of land that everyone and anyone should be able to reach, no matter where they were born or where they come from. I raged at the thought of people having their head so up their arse they couldn’t show any sign of empathy. I even felt sorry for the people emigrating towards my country, because it can be a close-minded, sad little corner of the world. But I can’t deny the fact that I do love this sad little corner of the world, which is also what pushes me everyday to always look further, explore new realities and compare them to my own. Because as I said, none of us live in perfect lands the same way as none of us is perfect.
With all of this said, I don’t even know where I’m going. I just wanted to express what I was feeling and throw out there a thought which maybe some of you can share with me. What do you think? Have you found a place that you think is perfect? Do you think it doesn’t exist? Do you agree in saying that nothing is perfect and we just gotta accept it and make the most of what we’ve got? Let me know!
I hope you’re all having a lovely day ,