It is possible there is a more enchanting place balanced somewhere between this world and the next.
It is possible there is a more captivating Italian-Beagle-Doggy-Who-Longs-For-Bacon. A place where a little dog and a little Downward Facing Dog can lift your heart.
(A certain Italian-Beagle-Doggy-Who-Longs-For-Bacon finally succumbed to my offers of ear scratching and lounged beside me for minutes at a time beside the pool.)
It is possible there is another place on earth where the trees are so kind as to deposit your morning orange directly upon your doorstep.
It is possible there is another series of interconnected squiggles called a roadway somewhere else in the world, where a single road can defy every rule of engineering and run perpendicular to itself while intersecting itself along a hairpin curve. With a roundabout somewhere in the middle.
I believe that when Michelangelo was sketching out his pencil design for the Sistine Chapel someone mistook it for the road design and once they built it, it was too embarrassing to change it.
So they left it that way.
It is possible there is a doppelganger for this country, one where the food is more delicious and flavourful and where a slice of tomato with a drizzle of oil and a sprinkle of fresh basil is so beautiful a person would starve rather than eat it.
But eat it you will and you will weep while doing so. But then a tree will fling another one at you and you will weep again because dear god so much wonderful food.
There might be another heaven where to say one went to a wine tasting is redundant.
Where you go to the opera to hear Puccini sung in the place where Puccini was baptized and where he played the organ and where the acoustics are so good that you feel free to sing along very loudly with the wrong words in the wrong key in all the wrong pauses and it still sounds absolutely amazing. (Except for the person sitting next to you.)
I will concede all of these possibilities.
But I know in my heart that there will never be another group like this group of the Nova Yoga Tuscanny Retreat Yogis. Thank you, Melanie, and thank you to Krystal.
There will never be another group of intrepid, conquering, compassionate, triumphant, lively, alive bunch of souls like this.
Because together we were greater than the sum of our parts.
And some of our parts are now stronger than they were before.
Every one of us has a story that brought us to this place. Some thing, either great or small.
Either something to celebrate, or something to overcome.
Something to grab on to, or something to let go of.
All these things, desires, wishes, healings and intentions have made some powerful magic.
Look out world.
There’s an Irish folk song I remember a little bit of. I think it’s called a Parting Song.
“So here’s a health to the company and one to my lass,
Let’s drink and be merry all out of one glass,
Let’s drink and be merry, all grief to refrain,
For we may or might never
All meet here again.”
I won’t say good-bye.
I’ll see you on the other side.