Me, My Heart, and I

by Melinda Gallo

Me, My Heart, and I :: Birthing my passion project

When I stopped working as a technical writer four years ago, my plan was to focus my energy on two writing projects: one fiction and one nonfiction. I wavered between the two, unsure about which one to publish first. A writer friend told me to pick only one, but I couldnít. They both inspired me at different times, tugging me in one direction and then the other. I felt lost and confused when my projects werenít progressing as I would have liked.

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Me, My Heart, and I :: The Gift of Time

After two weeks* of lockdown in Italy, I feel a great sense of tranquility. Initially, I only saw how disrupted my life was and how I couldnít do what I did before. Over time, I not only adapted to the lockdown, but I began to revel in it.

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Me, My Heart, and I :: Intense and beautiful transformations

The moment I arrived at the top of Giardino Bardini, I was greeted by a butterfly. She encircled me twice before joining a few other butterflies and bees buzzing around a lavender bush. As I watched the butterfly drink nectar from the center of the lavender blossoms, I thought about her life. It's such an incredible transformation for one being to go through: from being born a caterpillar and to being reborn a butterfly.

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Me, My Heart, and I :: Every photo contains a breath

Recently I walked to Ponte Santa Trinita an hour before sunset. I particularly enjoy watching the sunset from this bridge because of the brick walls bordering both sides of the Arno, the arches of the Ponte alla Carraia are reflected on the water, boats traverse the river in both directions, and ripples on the surface of the Arno change with the shifting of the wind. While the sun is setting and the clouds are shifting in shape and size, the view is transformed: a variety of colors blaze across the sky and are replicated on the water.

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Me, My Heart, and I :: Experiencing more beauty every day

Itís only recently that I understood how to deepen my experience of the beauty around me. I used to look at something and immediately judge it as beautiful or not. I either focused on it or looked away. When I sit in a garden, walk through Florenceís streets and piazzas, or stroll along the Arno, I try to consciously keep my heart open and breathe my surroundings into my heart. Itís a delight to to revel in the beauty of a single flower, a pathway, or even sunlight beaming through the trees. I am always amazed at how something that pleases my eye can fill me with so much joy that my heart bursts open.

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Me, My Heart, and I :: Reaching for love

For a long time now, I have tried to not write about grief. I thought if I wrote about other things, this need to write about grief would just go away. However, for the last few weeks thatís all that has been wanting to come out. A few nights in a row, I have woken up in the middle of the night with words streaming into my mind that wanted to be written. I would have to open up my iPad and dictate into my Notes App. Yesterday, while I was in the Giardino Bardini I decided to bring a notebook with me. For a while, I hadnít wanted to have a notebook on me because I didnít really want to write about grief outside of my home. Often I am inspired to write when I am in one of Florenceís gardens soaking up her energy. I initially didnít want to pull out my notebook after I sat down on a wooden bench under the warm afternoon sun facing east, but I did.

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Me, My Heart, and I :: Endings and beginnings

As 2019 is about to begin, I feel an excitement and a lightness that I havenít felt in quite a while. Itís not a feeling that comes and goes; itís a feeling that is solid within me. I experienced some upheaval these past few years, which initially I thought was a curse, but now have come to realize that it was a blessing. If someone would have told me that my entire life would be turned upside down, everything and everyone removed from it, and that I would rebuild a more solid life based in love, I wouldnít have believed them. But it happened.

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Me, My Heart, and I :: Embracing people and places

The more I discover other parts of the world, the more I consider each place to be like a person. Each place has its own unique mix of history, culture, and energy. When I visit a place, I look at it like having a conversation with it. I might get an impression about a place based on my interaction with it, but I canít know it very well. Not only does it take time, but it takes a wide variety of experiences for me to understand a place. I have lived in Florence for the last fourteen years and I am certainly no expert. And, honestly, I don't want to be. If I believe I know a place, it restricts me from discovering more and from seeing it evolve. Every place and every person is constantly evolving. If we classify someone or some place, it makes it more difficult to notice the changes.

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Me, My Heart, and I :: My journey of writing a novel

This morning when I woke up, the last thing I thought I would be writing about was the third draft of my novel. I tend to be quite reserved when it comes to discussing my current writing projects. For some reason, however, I felt a push inside of me today that said that things must change. I must change. Itís scary to talk about something that is still in progress. Itís like digging up a seed to see if itís sprouting. What if the seed has died? What if the seed only has a tiny sprout and needs more time? Those are the questions I ask myself, which keep me quiet about my writing projects. I couldnít get the first few sentences of this blog post out of my head until I wrote them down, so I decided to do so.

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