Crap.

Last week my friend A and I had Italy Day. We ate pasta, planned our someday-vacation in Europe, and watched a couple of movies set in Italy. Interestingly, both movies—Under the Tuscan Sun and Eat, Pray, Love—feature women making a drastic, spontaneous change to heal their broken hearts. Frances renovates a Tuscan villa and fills it with food, friends, and family; Elizabeth takes a yearlong quest for self-discovery, starting in Italy. That’s all very nice, and it makes for gorgeous films. But for most of us it’s not financially advantageous to buy a villa in Tuscany or rent an apartment in Rome. Some of us have to deal with our crap right here in our own houses while we drive to work, walk the dog, and cook dinner. Lather, rinse, repeat; take care of the crap when you get a chance.

But that’s okay. Because sometimes getting past the pain is just a matter of refusing it, of being patient enough with yourself that you choose against self-doubt for a day. Or turning up the music and dancing until you have to catch your breath. Or closing your eyes and filling your lungs with fresh air. Or hitting your knees and admitting your fallibility to God. Or spending the day with a dear friend, laughing and talking and watching Italy movies, and thanking the Lord for the sweet gift of friendship.


Sometimes you just have to remember, as one of my friends regularly tells me, that the crap is ancillary to who you are. You’re lovely; the crap is just a mess you have to clean up because humans have to do that sort of thing sometimes. Today the crap will not win. And I…I am dreaming of Italy.