There is a haven to be found in every home you make. A place where the earth seems to resonate and the trees sway like a dancer in the wind that captures your heart with the grace and gentleness of a mother’s comforting embrace. In a field of daisies, underneath a cherry tree with cherry blossoms spinning in the air, lazily making their way down from above onto the green grass below, I felt the air resonate like the beat of a hummingbird’s heart, the same as my own just on a frequency faster than I could feel. It was like the wind whispering a thousand times over this is home, this is home. ...

Today was the last day of the first part of my academic semester. I have completed the Intensive Advanced Italian Practicum, and today I took my written and oral final exam. It is a bizarre feeling to be taking a final after only three weeks of class, but here I am. This means that soon I begin my core classes and with that, begin the rest of my time here. ...

Sitting in Emporio alla Pace, just a few steps away from Piazza Navona, enjoying a cup of coffee and a pastry, it is easy to take for granted the things around me, to not take note of the truly extraordinary nature of the things going on around me. It is only when I realize I am over half way done with my study abroad experience, half way done with my time in Rome am I able to realize, not without horror, that these average everyday things will no longer be a part of my life in a very short while. Every moment I spend here is an exceptional gift unlike any other I have ever received. ...

For this semester I am studying abroad in Rome Italy. I am posting on another blog, Luminosity, for my time abroad. I will try to transfer some of the posts back to this blog as well. Here is the beginning The beginning of my journey is entirely devoid of details due to illness. I have been at a loss of words, profound or simple, to begin my story because the truth is that the beginning was a blur. Moments blending into each other like a careless hand swept across a precious pastel painting. Time lost, spaces jumped, a chaotic tumble of goodbye, luggage, security, waiting, boarding, plane rides, airports, waiting, waiting, airplanes, taxis and the list of jumbled images could continue. I have combed this mess of memory for the details, anything to lend light to how I somehow ended up in Rome, Italy when just a few short days ago I was home being pampered by my wonderful mother while horrible ill back in Santa Cruz, California. ...

There is a readiness here, a warming wave of welcoming that simmers under the surface of many people here in Roma, and all that is needed to draw it out is a few words of kindness, a humble jumble of words in Italian spoken with respect if not correctness, or a smile as you walk through open doors. The people here have a kindness in the color of their eyes or the corners of their mouths that spills forth with only a few gentle prods, and for some people with no prodding at all. ...

The clicking of coffee cups against porcelain plates, and the sound of raining falling on the cobblestone streets outside accompanies the soft chatter of conversations in languages ranging from Italian to German in a small coffee shop full of murals and books just a few winding alley ways away from Piazza Navona. The windows are foggy from the warmth of whispered words inside and the persistent downpour of rain outside on the window pane. Books splayed out before me on a table, a cappuccino in hand and a chocolate croissant waiting to be eaten. Oh how I have missed this. ...

Ruffled feathers, folded wings tucked neatly away against a lithe black and grey body, a raven sits atop a wind bent tree. The long slender tree sways under the pressure of the coming storm looming in the distance, yet so close on the dark horizon. The raven sits unheeded, the sentry set to duty atop a watch tower made before the brick buildings and red thatched roofs knew their beginning. ...

Every Sunday I go into the city of San Francisco to go to my home church, Reality SF. Located on the border of the Mission and Castro District, my church is central to some pretty cool things in the heart of San Francisco. Because I go weekly into San Francisco, I have decided to explore this giant city that is right across the bridge from Berkeley, yet seems a world away at the same time. Thus Sundays in the City is born as an effort of exploration and discovery outside of my Berkeley bubble. ...

The tremulous touch of God’s presence is the palpable essence of electricity in the air before lightning touches the barren earth and thunder roars across the sky. This was what I felt when I encountered you. The hair raising slowness of breath when one encounters the Divine. Yet you, the unassuming, the plain, the patchwork pattern of a human being, knew not what was hidden behind your graying cataract eyes. Could you possibly have known? Could it possibly have been you? Cross knitted eyebrows and deeply etched forehead disguised in the baggy weightless clothing of a man lost under his own skies; I found God. ...

Summer is winding down to an end and with that is a serious of desperate attempts to fill the dwindling amount of time with as many adventures as possible. Today’s mini adventure was to the Saratoga Japanese Hakone Gardens, the oldest historical Japanese tea Garden on the west coast. This small expanse of tranquil land fashioned with Japanese Maple Trees, koi filled ponds, and bamboo gardens is a luxurious little escape from the everyday. ...