These are the days

How can one possibly sum up the beauty, goodness and splendor of Capri in one measly blog post? It’s simply not possible. But nonetheless, I have to do my best to tell the story. 

I had been looking forward to Capri more than any other stop on my Mediterranean Cruise. The pictures I’d seen were incredible, and I couldn’t wait to experience it for myself. And at the top of my list of things to see was the Blue Grotto- supposedly one of the most beautiful and fascinating destinations on the island.

The second we stepped off the ferry I was in love with Capri. The rugged coastline, the cobalt blue waters, and everything else around me was breathtaking. I immediately inquired about the tours of the Blue Grotto. Much to my disappointment, there was over a 3 hour wait (and that didn’t include the boat ride there or back). There was no way we would have time to tour it. We hadn’t eaten lunch. We wanted to take a boat tour of the island and to see the panoramic views in Anacapri. We simply didn’t have time to do everything, so we opted to do all the other things on our list and shake off the fact that the Blue Grotto wouldn't be one of them. I was disappointed, but then again it was pretty hard to stay disappointed about anything for long when you’re somewhere so beautiful. 

We hopped on another boat to tour the rest of the island. We bounced over wave after wave, watching the beautiful scenery passing by. We sailed under I Faraglioni, through various grottos, and alongside ostentatious yachts. Every sight outdid the one before. It was all spectacular. 

After the boat ride we took an open air cab up to Anacapri, which was equally the most beautiful and terrifying ride of my life. I’ve been afraid in cabs in all sorts of cities. New York seems bad until you’re in Spain. Spain seems bad until you’re in Rome. And this cab just made every other cab ride in the world child's play. 

If it were even possible, Anacapri outdid any view we had already seen. Not only could we see the sparkling coastline below, but flowers were growing on vines up the stucco walls and giant lemons hung heavily on the branches of lemon tress (and you could smell the pungent citrus every time the breeze would pick up). Just when I thought it couldn’t get anymore beautiful, we rode the chairlift to the top of Monte Solaro. I sincerely am lacking words to sufficiently capture the beauty we saw around us. All I can say is that I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire life. 

After soaking up every ounce of the magnificent view, we did as our boat captain instructed and cabbed from Anacapri to Al Capri for lunch. I’ve eaten lots of delicious food in my life. And I’ve seen some pretty spectacular views. But the Neapolitan style pizza on the cliff overlooking the isle of Capri hands-down beats any other meal and any other view that I've ever experienced. No comparison. They both take the cake. So needless to say,  I really went for it. I had a caprese salad (again, the best I’ve ever had). I ate an entire pizza. I had 2 glasses of crisp, dry, local white wine. And I washed it all down with a shot of limoncello. 

At this point I was definitely buzzed and I was loving life. More than I know how to express in words here.  I didn’t think it was possible for life to get any better than it was in that very moment. 

After lunch we cabbed back to the bottom of the island again. Suddenly, a local tour guide approached me and was selling private tours to the Blue Grotto. We had to be on the ferryboat  that was leaving in just over an hour.  “I heard there was a 3 hour wait today” I questioned him. “No wait with me bella” he coaxed me. “I give you private tour. No line for you. 35 Euro- I take you now" I didn’t even blink. “Let’s go” I told him. 

We started following him and my brother pulled my arm. “Whitney, we have to be ON THE BOAT in an hour. As in it’s leaving then. If we mess this up and miss our cruise, that’s a couple thousand dollar mistake.” 

He was probably right. Maybe if I hadn’t had 2 glasses of wine and 2 shots of limoncello (I took another one at a gift shop before the tour guide approached me) I would have used my common sense. But I’ve also learned this year that God loves to come through when we least expect it and show off for us. And for whatever reason, I knew that this was the case in this particular moment. 

“We’ll be fine” I told him. Still, he didn’t let up so easily. “I don’t have any more Euro, Whitney."  I handed the man my credit card. “Max- we are in Capri for less than a full day. We have a chance to go inside the Blue Grotto when we didn't think we would. Can you guarantee we’ll be back here again? If so, I’ll play by the rules. But I can’t. So forgive me if I sound reckless or irresponsible, but I’m swiping my credit card. I’ll pay for both of us. Hell, I’ll pay for our flights to Barcelona if we miss the boat. But we’re going to the Blue Grotto"

A few minutes later we were in a tiny, inflatable boat (which I’m pretty sure could pop from a simple safety pin) going at least 55mph. We bounced over every wave as I got splashed over and over. My white dress was getting dirt all over it from the floor I was sitting on. But I didn’t care. I had vino and limoncello pumping through my blood and was moments away from the Blue Grotto.

A few minutes later we were surrounded by boats. It was chaos. Row boats. Motor boats. Yachts. Everything. We buzzed around the cove until a row boat pulled up to our side and we jumped in and paddled towards the entrance.

For the 3 or 4 minutes that we sat inside the Blue Grotto, life stood still. It was reveling in a moment that I didn’t think was going to happen. It was sitting in awe of the sparkling blue waters that were shining brightly, lighting up a dark cave. It was literally a miracle happening before my eyes. Not just the natural wonder of bright, beautiful light illuminating the darkness, but the fact that I was there against all the odds that had been stacked against me. 

I’ve come to believe that God lives for moments like this. Moments we didn’t see coming where he get’s to show off for us. And he reminds us that these are the days. I can’t guarantee what next year, next month or even next week will hold. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m having for breakfast tomorrow. But I can believe confidently that there is so much magnificence constantly unfolding around me. And he's got it all under control. 

This was a moment where I got something that I really wanted. But it didn’t happen according to my plan. This isn’t the first time this has happened to me recently. And quite frankly, I wish circumstances back home could be as posh. Because even downgrading about 10 levels from this would still put me in Naples eating heavenly pizza. But that’s certainly not the case. Either way, that day in Capri gave me a beautiful reminder to take back with me when I'm feeling stuck or discouraged. It reminded me that you’re usually not going to get what you want in the context that you have in mind. But God loves to come through in the 11th hour. He loves to give you the desire of your heart, and then some, all when you don’t expect it. And the adventure he takes you on along the way leads you to see some other incredible things that you never would have otherwise.

Had I gone to the Blue Grotto on my own agenda, I would have planned carefully, and it would have required me to shave off time that I spent in Anacapri at the magnificent viewpoint. Or eating one of the best meals of my life at Al Capri. But instead, I got to experience all the above. How lucky am I?

These are the days. The ones where we have the chance to experience glory. The adventure we’re on isn’t necessarily the one that we would have planned. But I truly believe that it’s one that will ultimately reveal more beauty, more splendor, and more joy than we could have ever schemed ourselves. So be ready for adventure. Jump at the opportunity to go where God leads you. And expect a lot of magnificence along the way. 

To my brother

I watched my baby brother get married this weekend. Baby isn’t the adjective that would come to mind if you met Max. He’s 6’2 and could probably pummel you. But being 4 years younger than me will always make him my baby brother in my eyes. 

While I usually never stray from the wedding registry when buying a gift (there is a reason people register) I knew that I wanted his wedding present to be something beyond a toaster. I wanted to give him something that he would remember. Something that we could still talk about when we were old and grey. And I got my chance in Barcelona.

The first day we landed in Barcelona, my family was exhausted and wanted to nap. Knowing this was a jam-packed 3 days with tons to see, I obviously wasn’t going to rest. And I knew that if there was one thing Max wanted to do in this city, it was see the FC Barcelona stadium (because there aren’t enough words in the English language to adequately explain what a sports enthusiast he is). “Come on” I told him "We're going".  So we hopped on the Metro and headed towards Camp Nou. When we got there, I knew he was on cloud 9. They had a 3 story Megastore full of FC Barcelona merch. We walked outside the stadium and the store, bought some shirts, and we soaked it all in.

We saw that some people were in line to tour the inside of the stadium and so I  asked him if he wanted to go in. He hesitated. Tickets seemed overpriced and he had just dropped almost all his money on a new Messi jersey, so we almost left.  He was still happy he saw what he did and frankly, I didn’t really care much to go inside if there wasn’t a game happening. But then I paused for a moment and began to realize something. I was at the home of arguably the most prestigious athletic organization and I was with the biggest sports fan that I know. It would be incredibly stupid to not seize this opportunity. “Let's do it” I told him. "Happy Wedding present." He smiled and we got in line. 

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Max that energized and happy on any other vacation. He took countless pictures. He kept saying "God, this is so freaking cool." We toured the locker rooms, we sang the FC Barcelona anthem, and we walked along the field. 

On the way out of the stadium, we walked through the stands when an employee asked if we wanted to stop and have a drink on the club level terrace. “No thanks” Max told her, but I grabbed his shirt. “Why would we turn down the chance to say we've sat and had drinks inside Camp Nou” He smiled and we walked over to our table to order some drinks. We talked for awhile about how cool this place was. How fun it would be to come back during a time we could actually watch a game. And then he said something that I’ll never forget. “It’s so surreal to be here and I want to soak it all up, because I know I’ll probably never get to come back again.” 

I asked him why he thought that and he began to name reasons about money or why would he ever be in Barcelona again and some other excuses that I stopped listening to. I looked him in the eyes and with my bossy big sister voice made him this promise. “We are going to come back here together again someday and we’re going to see a game. We’re going to scream and cheer with the crazy Spaniards and it’s going to be awesome.” He chuckled and agreed with me (probably just to shut me up). We finished our drinks and wrapped up touring the stadium together. It was one of those days and memories with my brother that I anticipate we’ll still talk about for years to come. "Mission accomplished” I thought to myself. 

Max grew up being a pretty go with the flow kid. He had to be, because I was the domineering one . And we tend to drift back into these stereotypes when we’re in a family setting. I’m the typical bossy big sister that makes the plans and Max nods his head and says “sure.” So it was no different when we first went to Europe together 3 years ago in Rome. I drug us down Via Del Corso to sightsee, or down Via Condotti to shop. I insisted on touring the Vatican and doing everything else that we could squeeze into 3 short days. He followed along, took pictures for me, and continued to reply with his usual “OK”.  But when we got home, it became a running joke when Max pointed out (and held over our head) that we didn’t do the one thing he wanted to do, which was tour the inside of the Colosseum. In the moment it seemed like a waste of time. The line was hours long and I’d seen pictures of the inside online. You could kind of see the inside from the outside anyway (that was my rationale at least). So it seemed that we would never live down that the one time we were in Rome we didn’t see the Colosseum. “When in Rome? Nah we’ll pass.” I did feel slightly guilty that we accomplished basically everything I wanted to see and do, but somehow hadn't managed to do the one thing Max cared to do. "Maybe we'll be back again someday?" I told him hopefully (to which he responded with another "Sure.")

Well who knew that 3 years later we’d be back in Rome (and don’t worry, this time the very first thing we did was tour the inside of the Colosseum). As we stood on the inside, soaking it all in (this time only a few days after we had been sipping drinks at FC Barcelona stadium) I turned to Max. “Hey, remember that time you said you’d never be back in Rome again or see the inside of the Colosseum?” He rolled his eyes at me for being an annoying know-it-all and we laughed for a minute. “I can’t wait to say the same thing to you about FC Barcelona someday" I told him. He smiled and agreed (but I’d like to think the look in his eyes this time was more believing). 

I’d be lying if I said I always believed Max would see the inside of the Colosseum after he didn’t our first trip. He’s more of a homebody and it’s not like we frequent Rome.  But if I’ve learned anything this year, it's that anything really is possible. And there’s nothing I love more than finding that quiet voice inside someone that says "I’d like to, but I can’t” and shake them awake to say YES. You really, really can. Because you always have a choice to make this life what you want it to be. 

So to my baby brother as you start this new adventure, I hope you’ll speak up and name all the things that you want in this life. I hope that whenever you think that something could never happen, you’ll remember that day in Rome when we stood inside the Colosseum. I hope you remember that if you try and fail, that doesn’t mean you won’t succeed later. That when something doesn’t work out in your favor, there’s still the hope of goodness in store down the road.  And I hope you’re ready to watch that game at Camp Nou in Barcelona together someday (and that you’ll bring your smoking hot wife that I now get to call my sister). Because it's going to happen. And when it does, it's going to be epic. 

Cinque Terre

I was in a relationship for 7 years and it abruptly came to an end about 6 months ago. 

This isn’t something I talk about on here, nor is it how you would expect me to start a blog post that’s supposed to be about Cinque Terre, I’m sure. It makes me uncomfortable to publicly discuss the details of such heartache, which is why I’ve never actually named it for what it is on the blog.  I’ve been able to wrap it up nicely and simply hint at it by naming it “a difficult time” or “a season of grief.”  Up until now. To tell the story that I want to tell, you have to know more. So here it is. 

For starters, the details of how and why the relationship ended won’t make this narrative any more valuable, so it's better that they be left out. What’s important here is that you understand the weight of what it’s like to spend 7 years of your life with someone. How well you get to know them. How your lives become woven together like a detailed tapestry. How doing life together becomes as natural as breathing. 

You have your usuals. Usual dinners at Calypso or Chipotle. Usual holiday traditions you share with each others families. Usual “Love you babygirl” texts before bed.  

You have your things. The thing where you always kiss at red lights. Or the thing where you play with that unusually flat thumbnail when you hold his hand. And that thing where you smirk at each other when that song comes on because of an inside joke that only the two of you know about. 

So naturally, it’s those usuals- those “things" you miss when it’s over. And from time to time, it’s easy to neglect any logic and still wish (even for just a brief moment) that you were curled up in bed, assuming your usual position of the little spoon, to watch the latest episode of Scandal with a pint of Ben + Jerry’s half-baked like you did every week. Because those tend to be the sweet memories that haunt you when it’s over. 

Again, you’re probably wondering why on earth I’m recounting details of a lost relationship when this post title references Cinque Terre. I honestly don’t know why my brain correlated the two either. But what I do know is that when I stood with my toes in the water alone for a moment in Monterosso, one of Cinque Terre’s quaint towns, I remembered something else that happened in our relationship. I’m not sure why it didn’t come to me until this particular moment. Maybe the trauma of how everything ended made a lot of details fuzzy. Or perhaps it was my memory being intentionally selective. Or maybe the sun and all the color around me was so bright that it literally illuminated any remaining darkness within where it could have been hiding. Whatever you want to attribute the reasoning to, it came to me. 

I remember it was a Saturday back home in Nashville, and the weather was perfect. Blue skies. Temperatures in 70s. Sunshine and fluffy white clouds. I woke up feeling energized and wanting to seize the day. To do something adventurous. Anything really: hike, walk, go to the park. I just wanted to feel alive. 

But I remember so clearly lying in my room, cuddled together and watching another TV show. And the only word I know to describe the complex feeling that started to bubble up inside of me was trapped. I felt trapped and I started to panic. 

Now obviously, I don’t mean that I was literally trapped. I wasn’t kidnapped or forced there against my will. I was absolutely choosing it. And it’s important to note that regardless why this particular relationship came to an end, while I was in it I was really happy. I was very much in love. At the time, it wasn’t the kind of thing where everyone told me I was an idiot for being with him, or where I obviously knew I was settling but couldn’t make myself leave. It was a good, real thing that I very much believed in, fought hard for and was committed to no matter what.

But even still, I remember so clearly this feeling- this fear that started to overcome me. I wondered if I would ever try living in Europe like I always said I wanted to. If I would travel to the countless places that I wanted to see.  If my life would be the series of big, beautiful adventures like I wanted it to be. I felt so anxious and far away from it all as I laid in bed- my anxious heart going crazy inside my still body. 

What I don’t remember is how I managed to suppress the panic that I began to feel that day. I don’t know how the memory buried itself deep inside of me for several months before things ended and even longer after we had split. I'm assuming I shrugged it off, telling myself I was being dramatic and convinced myself I was living a plenty full life. But what I do know is that what I felt in Cinque Terre is exactly what I was desperately longing for that day as I laid in bed.

Cinque Terre made me feel completely alive. The energy in the streets was buzzing with excitement. Everything from the buildings to the people were bright and full of life.  Everything around me was fascinating and delicious and full of wonder. It was uncharted territory and “pinch me- I must be dreaming”. It was right where I knew I was supposed to be. 

Please know that this isn’t a soliloquy about how happy I am to finally be free from such a terrible relationship. Because that’s not how it ended. Like I said- I was very happy. And regardless of it's disappointing ending or continual aftermath, my intention here isn’t to trash talk it. Because as much pain as it brought me, it also brought me a lot of valuable lessons that I’ll carry with me. And sure, sometimes I still believe things could have been different or struggle with how everything ended or wonder why I am where I am now. But my hope in sharing this story is simply to reiterate that while we don’t always get to chose what happens to us, we do get to choose how we respond. And so I’m going to keep leaning into these dreams that are on my heart and stuff my life full of all the wonder that God intended for it to have. I'm going to choose to remember that God's plans are always better than the ones I have in mind. And I'm going to choose to be the fullest version of myself possible- not holding anything back. 

I hope that wherever you are in life, you’ll choose the same. I hope that if you feel that tug, or hear those voices that you don’t shut them out. Because you weren't meant to run and hide from who you really are and what’s deep in your heart. You were meant to embrace it and chase after it unapologetically. 

As cheesy as it may sound, that day in Cinque Terre reminded me that life can be as bright and radiant and beautiful and colorful as everything that I saw around me. That the road ahead can be exciting even when it's unknown if we do more of the things that we were designed to do. 

To put the cherry on top of the day, two backpackers sat next to me on the train as I was leaving Monterosso and headed towards Levanto. They stared at the map in their hands for a few minutes before one of them looked up at me. “We have no idea where we are right now” he laughed. “But who knew getting lost could be this damn beautiful?"

I’m learning that God will often use our disappointments to give us something that’s better than our dreams. Sometimes he takes away our happiness so he can give us exuberant joy that radiates from the inside out. And when we get so stuck on something that's good, we shortchange both God and ourselves from letting him do the absolute best in our lives. 

My life looks so different right now than I ever thought it would, but God hasn’t stopped showing up. He hasn’t stopped blessing me. And I know that there’s only more where this came from. 

Adventure is out there. But you won’t find it curled up in the arms of what’s comfortable. You have to get out of bed. You have to get lost in those uncharted places, and sometimes they're really scary. You might even have to lose something you think is incredibly good. But take heart and know that what you'll find is greater than anything you could have ever dreamed up on your own. Because God created you for an extraordinary life. And He doesn’t want to give you even the tiniest sliver less than that.