Perhaps true contentment happens not before or after the storm but at its epicenter, at the eye of the hurricane. In the midst of tumultuous winds and rain and hail and lightning and thunder, maybe, just maybe, that is where we are able to find stillness, find the place where we are settled and grounded and rooted in what it is that makes us who we are.
James... His name was James...
Originally from Kent, just outside of London, he was in Rome working as an au pair for a gay couple on the southwest side of the city for a couple of months. He was a writer, a nomad of sorts, who defied labels and categorization. He hated conformity of all sorts. He was himself, and no one would ever take that away from him.
While I valued and appreciated the time I got to spend with my traveling companions, I also appreciated the chance to explore and enjoy the city on my own, at my own pace, with less of an agenda. I was able to meet up with some non-school friends who happened to be in the city at the same time. I went to bistros, relishing the solitude of a stroll along the Via del Corzo. I made new friends, one of whom I spent several evenings with eating pizza by the Pantheon before bingeing on gelato in Piazza Navona.