A Day in the Life of Chaos

It was a very special Christmas that year so long ago.  As a young man my family traveled to Europe in the winter.  There is something different about Europe in the winter.  It is a combination of many things.  The cold harkens back to my childhood Christmas’ spent in Alaska.  There is purity in the air.  The kind of Christmas that American’s imagine but left long ago.  One where commercialism and gifts are secondary.  Where cold weather is a sign for people to huddle together in conversation relishing a hot cup of mulled wine or coco.  The steam of their cups collides with frigid air as it drifts upwards into the night.  The smells of hot sausages  wafting through markets and ginger bread baking in ovens behind frosty shop windows.  Small market stalls and street side stores sell hand made goods that are as far from plastic packaged merchandise as we are from the round full moon hanging over our heads.   Some how in this panicked and manic 21st century, Europe has preserved the

Life for all but the hermit is a string of social interactions.  It is meeting people, leaving people, remembering people, forgetting people.  In all those relationships there are some that standout like flakes of gold floating on the surface of a gold pan. They are uniquely valuable and so  precious they will span a lifetime.  These are the people whose bond seems unregulated by time.  Years may span face to face meetings but each time one occurs it feels as if time and life has stood still.  Like nary a day has passed and conversations and embraces resume as if left only moments before.   These friends are rare because their companionship transcends the physical and intellectual to something much deeper.  The connection is almost spiritual in the way you become intertwined, woven into each others lives.   My friend Francesca is this way.  We first met when we were both in the university, her in Italy and me in America.  I was traveling in Italy and our lives intersected.  B

  Sometimes when I think about life and the journey we take, I think about it as made up of many signposts. Each one is unique to ourselves and our lives but as we look back over time we find many have become beacons of life. A point in time when we changed in some way and found the path that has led us to the present. It can be a dangerous recollection because we are at risk of allowing our minds to wander into the unknown. The world of what might have been can be enticing however, it can also be risky as a mode of thought.  This is largely because there can be no resolution.  We can't change or re-live the past, only move forward from the decisions we made. The summer of my nineteenth year I was eager to find myself. I wanted to break out into the world and make my own decisions. I wanted to leave the protective custody of my parents but like most young kids, I subconsciously wanted to find independence without fully losing the security of parents and family.  When a ch