I’m struggling with Tuscany. The rhythm of it, the late summer that fought against giving way to fall, the bees and landlockedness and slow pace.
I’m not a slow-paced person. I came here, in part, to experience the pace while remaining productive.
But I find I’m intensely productive in spurts, even as Tuscany conspires to create spaces where productivity is impossible.
I struggle to be okay with this.
I waited an hour for the train on Friday. I wanted to go to Florence. After an hour passed and the delay stretched from five minutes to fifty, the announcer stated the train would not come at all, and the next train would be in two more hours. I left.
I walked to a nearby cafe. Sat down. Had a pastry and a glass of sparkling water. Seethed.
My host was returning in four and a half hours. Until then, I was stranded in town with nothing to do.
I added the tally of hours spent and yet-to-be-spent waiting during the trip. I calculated that I had spent roughly three days waiting out of 20 days in Italy. The reasons varied. Waiting for trains. Waiting for cars. Waiting for paperwork. Waiting for doctors related to my ankle-sprain.
All of the restaurants were closed between lunch and dinner, so a hearty meal was out. There was no Wi-Fi, so the Internet was out. I opened my Kindle app and read The Four-Hour Work Week.
I’ve put off reading this book many times. Its title doesn’t appeal to me because I have zero desire to work only four hours per week. I want to work a lot, make a lot of things, and be productive in society.
As I read the book, I realized that is (sort of) actually the message. Service is one of the themes of the book. I feel it could be a stronger theme, but it’s there. And that’s really where I’m at with this wandering-the-world/learning thing. I want to get to where I can work on things that interest me and be of service, in a different way than I was during my prior job. There, I pushed hard against giant gears to get them moving. Now, I want to create new gears.
So I struggle when the Wi-Fi struggles. I envision lying in a hammock, happily streaming edX videos while learning about solar energy. Instead I plug in my Ethernet cable and hope the network is functional. If it is, I often squander it playing games or reading news — a messed-up reaction that could only come from my lizard brain.
In fact, I get more done when I unplug the Ethernet cable entirely. Then I focus, write, code and read. Then I feel good about myself and this trip.
The important things are good. I’m here, I haven’t re-injured my ankle since Cinque Terre two weeks ago, and I love the scenery of Tuscany. Almost everyone I’ve met has been amazingly understanding, friendly and welcoming. The food is good, I cook home-grown organic vegetables almost daily in my kitchen, and the hosts at the farmhouse where I’m staying are wonderful. We had a traditional Tuscan dinner last week in the host’s kitchen, and it was a wonderful evening full of laughter and conversation and good food and wine. So I have nothing to complain about.
I struggle. And I let go. I left the cafe and walked through the small town, stopping for gelato and then meandering along a path beside the Arno River. I crossed a small bridge and found a medieval tower standing beside it, a landmark for the town. I walked some more, back and forth along the path, shopping for groceries and visiting the cafe again. This time I relaxed instead of seething, and the patrons laughed at my expression, with my head against the wall and my eyes closed. “Are you tired?” he asked. “No, I’m just relaxing,” I said. And I sort of was telling the truth.
Each night, I huddle in the farmhouse, getting ready for sleep, wondering what tomorrow will bring. I know the trains will probably not run on time. I know the schedule will probably not be what I expect. I know I cannot predict how the day will unfold, or how much I will get done, or whether I will be able to check email at any given time. I know the food will be good, and I know the day will be beautiful, and I know the hosts are great people and I’ll have a great day if I can just relax and let life lead me.
It’s funny how the more I surrender to that, the more I get done.