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A Rose-tinted Morning

 

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Sometimes the curiosities of the night and weird places my dreams carry me linger on after waking. I suppose that happens to everyone now and again. This morning I woke up even earlier than usual and couldn’t settle down again to rest. We all carry things from long ago inside us, even if we choose not to think about them, seemingly forget them or try our darnedest to move on. But that’s fine, it’s the way it is. I’ve never been one to focus much on the past—in its good or bad moments—but I think the very nature of being an expat means you have left things behind. Family, friendships, experiences, possibilities. Of course, those are very often replaced by new family, new friends, new experiences and a new world of possibilities. But there is a piece, sometimes large pieces, of your life left behind when you move to another country.

I padded across the bedroom floor in the dark and heard my husband stirring. I hoped I hadn’t woken him up, but I sensed he was awake, too. Toulouse stretched in that satisfying way only cats can stretch in the morning and followed me out of the room. I went into the adjacent bedroom and opened the windows. The sky was ablaze with a rose-tinted sunrise over Ravello. In that moment, the sadness of the night’s dreams floated away. It was another day in the place I love most in the world.

Wherever you are at right now or whatever things from the past might be weighing you down, there are always new possibilities ahead. Maybe it’s a rose-tinted way of looking at the world, but it makes me smile and look forward to all the adventures ahead!


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