Letter #5 - Dolce Far Niente
A letter about caring for myself while I wait.
In a few days, I'll be heading to Italy for a month to study ceramics.
On paper, it might seem like an unusual time to take a trip. I'm still living with Stage 4 kidney disease. I'm still waiting. I'm still navigating tests, appointments, and the uncertainty that comes with preparing for a transplant.
But one thing I've been learning is that waiting doesn't mean putting life on hold.
For a long time, I thought I needed to wait until things were resolved. Wait until I knew what was next. Wait until life felt more certain.
But life keeps reminding me that certainty is never guaranteed.
This trip isn't about escaping my life. It's about living it.
It's one way I'm choosing to take care of myself while I wait. A chance to learn something new, explore a different place, meet new people, and spend time creating. A chance to nourish my mind, my heart, and my spirit.
The Italians have a phrase: Dolce far niente — the sweetness of doing nothing.
I don't think it means doing nothing at all. I think it means slowing down enough to enjoy where you are.
A good meal.
A conversation.
A walk.
The simple joy of creating something because it brings you joy.
Lately, I've been learning that taking care of myself isn't selfish. It's necessary.
Because healing involves more than the body.
It involves the heart.
The spirit.
The people we spend time with.
The things that make us feel alive.
And perhaps most importantly, it involves remembering that life is happening right now.
None of us knows how much time we have.
What we do have is today.
The chance to follow the sunshine.
To stay curious.
To learn new things.
To make memories with the people we love.
And to make the most of the time we've been given.
So while I'll be learning ceramics, I'll also be practicing something I've been working on all year:
Being present.
Trusting the season I'm in.
And continuing to live my life while I wait for whatever comes next.
With Love,
Missy
