When I was teaching in Italy, we would go on many in situ trips with the students of the University and sometimes on trips of our own.
I am reminded of one in particular today, one to the small town of Limone sul Garda, a small village on the banks of Lake Garda, known for, ... lemons...
It was highly picturesque and one evening walking down the narrow stone steps of town, we stumbled upon a mini "pop-up" opera a fresco, with some of the most dazzling singing one could imagine, echoing through the narrow streets under the stars.
The narrow streets. Now, there's the rub.
We had rented a car, and there was a port down below with a parking lot, which is where I planned to park said rental car. However, there was a short cut, or so I thought. I took a turn into one of those charming narrow lanes, which ultimately had a portal, flanked by charming Italian homes on each side.
The space between these houses, was, shall we say, not the width of a normal street, for a car, which I was driving.
As I started to pass under the portico, a sinking feeling set in. The space was not wide enough to pass through it was beginning to seem. As this realization began to dawn, a group of local kids began to form, to see the stupid American get stuck. I stopped the car and looked out the window. To say that there was an inch on each side would be an exaggeration. You could barely slip a piece of paper between the car and the stone wall.
The mirth of the kids began to rise as did a tinge of nausea in my gut. I had the full-on epiphany that we might indeed be stuck. Stuck to the point that we would not have even been able to exit the car as the doors would be pinned in.
What to do when you are stuck?
Breathe.
Once I was able to actually breathe, I decided I had to make a move. Either stay potential stuck, or go for broke and get properly stuck, or to get out of the situation.
What seemed like an eternity, jeered and cheered on by the kids of Limone, inch by inch, I maneuvered the car out of the portico, made a U-turn in the tiny piazza, and went back through to get to the main road, ultimately leading to the original destination, the parking lot below.
Sometimes in life, we are heading for a destination, something that feels so certain, that nothing can stop us, and then, we get stuck, or we get potentially stuck. At those times, instead of brashly plowing through or losing our heads completely, the simplest solution is to stop, and breathe, and then try again.
The simple arrival in a parking lot never felt so rewarding. Often, when things are tough, the destination is all the more rewarding. Journeys bring surprises, detours, roadblocks and deviations. But, sometimes, after the detour, we may find ourselves back on the path we intended, but with vastly more appreciation.
I am reminded of one in particular today, one to the small town of Limone sul Garda, a small village on the banks of Lake Garda, known for, ... lemons...
It was highly picturesque and one evening walking down the narrow stone steps of town, we stumbled upon a mini "pop-up" opera a fresco, with some of the most dazzling singing one could imagine, echoing through the narrow streets under the stars.
The narrow streets. Now, there's the rub.
We had rented a car, and there was a port down below with a parking lot, which is where I planned to park said rental car. However, there was a short cut, or so I thought. I took a turn into one of those charming narrow lanes, which ultimately had a portal, flanked by charming Italian homes on each side.
The space between these houses, was, shall we say, not the width of a normal street, for a car, which I was driving.
As I started to pass under the portico, a sinking feeling set in. The space was not wide enough to pass through it was beginning to seem. As this realization began to dawn, a group of local kids began to form, to see the stupid American get stuck. I stopped the car and looked out the window. To say that there was an inch on each side would be an exaggeration. You could barely slip a piece of paper between the car and the stone wall.
The mirth of the kids began to rise as did a tinge of nausea in my gut. I had the full-on epiphany that we might indeed be stuck. Stuck to the point that we would not have even been able to exit the car as the doors would be pinned in.
What to do when you are stuck?
Breathe.
Once I was able to actually breathe, I decided I had to make a move. Either stay potential stuck, or go for broke and get properly stuck, or to get out of the situation.
What seemed like an eternity, jeered and cheered on by the kids of Limone, inch by inch, I maneuvered the car out of the portico, made a U-turn in the tiny piazza, and went back through to get to the main road, ultimately leading to the original destination, the parking lot below.
Sometimes in life, we are heading for a destination, something that feels so certain, that nothing can stop us, and then, we get stuck, or we get potentially stuck. At those times, instead of brashly plowing through or losing our heads completely, the simplest solution is to stop, and breathe, and then try again.
The simple arrival in a parking lot never felt so rewarding. Often, when things are tough, the destination is all the more rewarding. Journeys bring surprises, detours, roadblocks and deviations. But, sometimes, after the detour, we may find ourselves back on the path we intended, but with vastly more appreciation.
