I'm in Italy for a bit. My friends are here and we're chilling. The sun's out, the sea is soft and the food is drenched in olive oil. If you've been to Italy, you know.
But I can't breathe deeply. There's too much going on, so much to worry about. My sister's in Israel, people are hurt, so many are dying. I'm trying to take my mind away from it and my mind keeps going back. I can't do much from far away. I don't know what I want to do.
My friends and I take many walks while we're here. The other night, we were lazing down a long street in Sorrento, window shopping and checking our phones. I heard music floating from the side and looked over. Two musicians were playing something simple on their mandolins. One was standing, energetically strumming. One was in a wheelchair, head and hands looking painfully bent. He was playing too. I think he had cerebral palsy. The mandolin was tucked between his body and the handrest. He had a plastic plectrum strapped to his palm. The guy in the wheelchair was strumming every 4th or 8th note exactly on beat.
I moved closer and they both smiled. The guy standing said something in Italian and the man in the wheelchair smiled so hard that the sun came out in the night sky. People walked by and few noticed. It's uncomfortable to look close at someone who looks different. I felt it too; I didn't know how to interact. I stayed there for a bit with my friends; watching, listening and enjoying being transported somewhere else. The world was a beautiful place again.
I can't fix much or do anything that grand. People are hurting, people are helping, people are hopeless. As long as there are beautiful moments like the one with the musicians, I know the world that seems so dark will feel alive again. There might not be much I can do, but I can keep searching for light and showing it to you too.
Beautiful 🥹
Sending you love Yehudis ❤️ a beautiful moment captured in an uncertain world