lessons in solitude
heartbreak → resilience → beauty → purpose
Here I am, on my solo romantic Italian adventure.
The days are long, the meals are solo, the views are spectacular - and yes, beds are for sleeping diagonally! I weave through the crowds with ease, guided only by my gut, there’s a sweetness in learning to listen again.
This wasn’t the trip I planned. Guppy was meant to be beside me, walking 20,000 steps per day in Rome, driving the impossible winding James Bond style roads in Maratea. Until sickness pulled him away - literally just 200 minutes before take-off. I sat with my ticket, my suitcase, and a choice: stay home, or board the plane alone. Cancelling wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it easy. Tears have been close, often.
In Roma, I wandered cobbled streets until my feet ached, sipped espresso before exploring the Colosseum glowing at dawn. I got lost more than once, eventually learning to navigate Google Maps like it was a secret code, but the detours always led somewhere worth finding. I searched for street art in lesser-known neighbourhoods, bright colors splashed across quiet walls, and I sampled gelato after nearly every meal - because when in Rome, dolci is a practice, not a luxury. Thankyou beautiful Roma, a city that doesn’t let you feel small, even when you are solo.
In Maratea, the pastel houses cling to cliffs and the Tyrrhenian Sea sparkled like it was keeping a secret. I met a beautiful Austrian mother and daughter who have holidayed here every year for the last fifteen, and they shared with me the rhythms of the local beaches - which one sparkles in the morning light, which one is best for sunset swims. Two taxi-driving sisters took me under their wing, steering me not just through winding roads but through the stories of their town. And from my enormous apartment window, I could see the towering Cristo Redentore - the same view I later climbed toward, breathless, where sea and sky opened into something infinite. A sweet reminder that solitude doesn’t mean aloneness.
Soon in Sicily, I’ll find a sweet relief: friends waiting, laughter shared, cannoli devoured, and sunsets that wont be watched alone.
And then there is Umbria, where I will teach a yoga retreat - where practice and purpose await me. This is why I had to come, why cancelling was never truly on the table. To hold space for others, I must first hold space for myself.
It’s not all easy. But it’s not all bad either. I’m learning to slow down. Learning to love my own company again. Learning to romance myself.
Brave? Crazy? Selfish? Maybe all of the above. But as the Yoga Sutras remind us: abhyasa (practice) and vairagyam (letting go) go hand in hand. So here I am, practicing presence, letting go of expectations, and savouring the sweet life - one dolci delight at a time.
xo Kellie