Last week, I moved to an old farmhouse that I am renovating. I decided that enough rooms were ready and enough comfort was available already. I chose this place three years ago, before a very serious illness. Perhaps I would not have chosen it now, as it feels quite isolated, almost like a hermitage.
The other day, I heard a car’s engine, and I immediately ran to the balcony, realizing that here “car” meant “stranger arriving,” for the only other sounds are those made by birds, insects, and the occasional agricultural machine. From my windows, I can see only cultivated hills and patches of woods, and some houses in the distance.
My house is not alone, however. I live in a small village with a funny name. About twelve of us dwell here in the village permanently, and there is probably space for at least 100 people, with generously-sized rooms. Most buildings therefore, are empty, while the smoke rising from chimneys and the smell of burnt wood mean “inhabited house.” I am curious to know the stories of these twelve people, but it’s too early to ask.
In reality, I can get to a train station in 15 minutes by car, and from there in 70 minutes to Milan. Five minutes away by car are a pharmacy and a grocery store, as well as restaurants and cafés. I am by no means truly isolated.
But it is something else to live in an old house with very thick walls, brick vaults, and windows with old glass. Immersed in nature, plunged in an aquarel, and so necessarily attentive to the tiniest bodily sensation, to the faintest birth of a thought, to the smallest stirring of the soul. It is something else, especially because out there, chaos and war are raging. The world is seemingly falling apart. The ugliest humans are ruling. Was the international order always a lie? How long will evil reign? Is humanity going to survive this crisis?
Like many of you, I am losing hope, or at least I am very cautious about it. But I feel that this house is calling me to a reset. I understand much better how my nervous system has been upset by the news cycle, and almost controlled by it. I want to reclaim my freedom and build a healthy mental and bodily routine. I want to create a place where visitors will feel welcomed in a much more than formal way: welcomed, and heard, and challenged to become their better selves.
The silence, the birds, the wooden stove, the views, the grass, the old stones, and the magnificent linden tree in front will do their job. That is now my hope. Is it a tiny hope? Or is it a hope tailored to my real strengths, to my real capabilities?
As Matthew Fox has reminded us, Thomas Aquinas said that the human soul is capax universi: that is, it is capable of containing the whole universe. I believe that strongly. I feel connected to all the people, and the animals, and the woods and waterfalls I met around the world. I feel connected to the dead people whose books I have studied, and to their living thoughts. I feel connected to the people dying for the greed of others in Gaza and Iran and Israel, and everywhere, and to the people being born. But from now on, I will attempt to feel the universe from my tiny special spot where my soul has called and settled me.
Banner Image: The view from Gianluigi’s balcony. Photo by GG, used with permission.
Queries for Contemplation
What might it mean for you to have a hope “tailored to your capabilities”? What do you think about a “reset”? How can silence help?
Related Readings by Matthew Fox
The Tao of Thomas Aquinas: Fierce Wisdom for Hard Times
Order of the Sacred Earth: An Intergenerational Vision of Love and Action
Matthew Fox: Essential Writings on Creation Spirituality
Christian Mystics: 365 Readings & Meditations
Creativity: Where the Divine and Human Meet
Naming the Unnameable: 89 Wonderful and Useful Names for God…Including the Unnameable God
19 thoughts on “Diary from the Italian Countryside, part 1”
I am also isolated — flatbound these last 6 years , can no longer help, do things for othere ( ex nurse), BUT i firmly believe and just ‘ know’ sending good thoughts to others known and unknown throughout the universe do land where they are meant to go. Give a lift, an inkling of comfort in some way. Silence and aloneness assures me of this. Even prayers for the perpetrators. Surely St. Stephen ,as he died prayed for Saul,surely perhaps the early christians did. Prayer and good thoughts dearest Gianluigi ALWAYS ARRIVE, though we will never see it. You have such a God given open heart, let it flow all over our suffering world into every heart. Thank YOU for your words and ALL you give,or rather our Beloved gives through you. Brenda
Thank you GG for sharing our your experiences and thoughts of living in your new home in the countryside. Symbolically, we all need to find our inner and outer homes contemplatively that connects Us communally and compassionately with God’s Living and Loving Presence everywhere, with Beautiful Sacred Mother Earth/Her living creatures (especially Humanity)/Her graceful and essential abundance, and with-in All physical/nonphysical spiritual beings and dimensions of Our Sacred and evolving Cosmos….
What a joy to read you again, Gianluigi, and to find you like a bulb transplanted in a new garden bed. Every line in today’s DM speaks of spring renewal and serenity, and even the “magnificent linden tree in front” adds its symbolism of peace, justice and nurturing. Welcome to your new home.
As far as “losing hope” is concerned, the irony is that the story of the “reset” you are going through IS by itself a hope-giving story. You cannot lose hope when you give it so generously because, as Emerson put it: “It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life, that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.” Hope, of course, not in the sense of wishing evil to vanish tomorrow, because it won’t and its ugly presence also helps our souls keep alive, but Hope in the sense of Julian of Norwich’s “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”
Resetting takes courage and as George Bernard Show put it: “Courage will not save you; but it will show that your souls are still live.”
Thank you GG! I am (as many, I am sure) looking forward to reading your life-giving thoughts and meditations, especially in these dark, dark times.
With and in Christ, GG, you can be in luxury and you will be the tiniest bit removed from life’s chaos. In the 23rd Psalm, you can be the lamb who strays, trusting your Shepherd will find, protect and carry you back to the cheerful flock. We all who trust (since fear is unnecessary) in and as Christ, rejoice in companionship with the triune God.
I recall the lady Julian, who–sealed up in her anchorage–looked in one direction and saw a small part of her plagued world; looked in a different direction and saw the chapel. In her isolation, Christ held a hazelnut out to her. You know what He said.
I am so glad that Gianluigi , you have returned to Daily meditations. I hope your health improves and stabilises. I resonate a great deal with what you say .
I am recovering from an unexpected serious illness and having come through the darkest times ( I hope !), I find it has been a gift and has given me a chance to connect deeply with my soul. My house is a hemmed I , very small terraced house in London, but equally offers much listening and care within it’s walls. Recently reading John O’ Donohue, I was reminded of the way buildings can offer harmony and relationship.
Also, l the world situation is indeed desperate. Hope for me is in increasing encounter with individuals and groups who continue to pray, to seek light and harmony in different ways.
It is no coincidence for me that a brush with death came at this time. As Matthew Fox and others have said, constant seeking to deepen the light , the Christ within ourselves , is the only way:, even though, as with active hope , the outcome may go either way.
Many thanks to you both for the Meditations.
May the birds, trees, plants and spaciousness bless you in your recovery, Gianluigi.
Congratulations on your beautiful new home. I pray it brings you much healing and happiness.
I feel every word of this beautiful essay. When I retired, I moved from Cupertino, a city in the San Francisco Bay area, and home of Apple Computer, to the Santa Cruz Mountains. I live in a peaceful house in a redwood forest. Out my windows there are no houses, no traffic, no streetlights. Only trees, birds, deer, foxes, bobcats and mountain lions. In the last 18 years, when wars were happening, mass murders, protests, shootings, every kind of evil and violence, I looked across the canyon and nothing had changed. I, too, study the books of the holy ones. Sometimes, it seems wrong for me to have this peace and happiness, when so many in this world have terror, and no necessities or comforts. I can only pray for them. I am blessed to have this Deep Peace.
This is beautiful, Gianluigi. Perhaps I will print it out and keep it in my office as a reminder that in the midst of the atrocities of war and fascism, I can create a small place of peace and beauty. I spend my days doing all the things we all must do to keep going in this world–tidying the house, washing clothes, fixing meals and washing dishes, paying bills, taking the cat to the vet; but also writing, forming community, hiking, swimming, reading, meditating, and carrying a banner for peace and democracy. This month casting a play and preparing for a production of my play about spiritual upheaval and the acceptance that one must live with questions. Meanwhile, I find myself raging against the dying of the light, aging, and doing my best to face off the ravages of time on my body. At nearly 80, I am not ready to be old. Doing these things (while watching events caused by war-making and ICE incursions into our cities) often seems meaningless. At any moment, innocent strangers and those I love intensely could be spirited away. Yet aren’t we bowing down to the oligarchs if we fail to experience the beauty of life and this precious planet? Thank you for this beautiful message. I cherish it. Will I see you in Sardinia?
Dear Michelle, you are NOT old unless you say you are. I am close to you in age (77) but I refuse to be old! I am an Elder, which implies Wisdom, rather than dotage. I will be an Elder until I die, and since I still have lots to learn and explore, I hope that will be long in coming. Blessings.
And CG welcome back to us.
So good GG to have you here for all of us to be fed and there for you to be fed. Your words/ thoughts are such good spiritual food for me and I am sure for so many others.
Great Gratitude for you.
Welcome back, Gianluigi!
SO GLAD to welcome you back, GG! I hope your are well enough and getting stronger every day in body and spirit.
One question: What do you mean by “plunged in aquarel”? Is it a metaphor for feeling like you are living in a delicately rendered watercolor painting? That’s quite something!
Will you host retreats at your new home? That would be quite something, too!
Blessings to you …. and to all of us for having you in our lives!
Thank you so very much GG
So glad that your health is back, Don Gianluigi. Quite a nice ‘old’ farmhouse I must say.
Thank you all for your kind words. My health is ok but I must slow down, and moving is taxing.
Yes, I am planning to host retreatants. There are two bedrooms with a view and their own bathroom en suite dedicated to this aim, hopefully they will be ready in the Fall of this year 2026. I am thinking mostly of individuals who are in search of a “reset” and that might include home-cooked meals and spiritual direction. (It might, not must).
Welcome back, Gianluigi! May your Path be beautiful and easier.
I know what it’s like to be challenged by a horrific medical mess. I, too, am recovering (hopefully). I’m glad I put my notes about the Mystical One of “Neoplatonism” etc. into comments when I did, when I “felt it was necessary at that time.” My brain was capable back then. Now it’s trying to recover. Perhaps we must listen to those inner nudges. (But I’m not always good at this…).
Anyway, it’s very good to have you back, and I hope all goes extremely well for you. Take care of yourself.
Welcome back, Gianluigi. I am rather envious of your Italian set-up. May it reset and restore you in all ways.
It’s good to read your words. I am struggling to live in this cruel and violent world, even though I’m not personally being bombed, starved, tortured etc, by the ugly people who dominate and rule. It is an awful thing to be a witness to all this suffering and destruction.
Today was another very bleak day in the PNW. It has been a winter of endless rain and clouds, which means-no sun. And of course, I am not finding any sunshine in the news. So what to do? Today was another bleak encounter with the elements, but I dressed in a ski jacket, ski pants, and decided to begin dismantling a pile of wood that had been assembled after a storm. A huge pile of Madrone branches and other gnarled wood from the high winds.. I actually had been grumbling about it for months but today was a soft rain, so with pruners in hand, I decided to tackle the pile myself. As I looked at the assemblage of branches and debris, I remembered what Leroy, my New Mexico friend, told me about branches and birds…”Don’t cut out the dead branches, my daughter, the birds love to sit there and make sure it is safe, before they drink from the well.” Today there were no lawn mowers, no cars racing by, only the soft rain and I found many beautiful branches to cut and use in the gardens for the birds to sit above the bird bath. A simple afternoon of being in nature and finding solace in God’s beautiful world, if even for a day. In these times we need to connect with nature whenever and however that is possible, in that, we can find the connections to our inner Self and that of our Mother Earth, which is healing for our collective souls.