I hadn’t planned on a Christmas post this year.
Life has been hectic, I turned in half of my new book, I had to deal with some physical pain, and with plans and traveling for the year about to start.
I have been cooking a lot, and I have been experimenting with new recipes: I successfully made my first strudel dough, and it came out delicious, with pears, walnuts, rosemary, figs, and goat cheese. I made my first French Onion Soup, too, and the result was truly special. I have been quite proud of myself in the kitchen, I must say. (Here’s the recipe for the soup.)
But there have also been some tough moments, since I last wrote, at Thanksgiving.
Sometimes I don’t see myself moving fast enough in life; career, motherhood, personal growth, freedom from old fears and obsessions that make my life difficult to manage, at times. There have been moments when, angry and disappointed, I wanted to give up.
But I didn’t. And then December 18th arrived.
I had been waiting to see Stevie Nicks live since the early summer, when I had learned about her tour.
Having moved from Italy only six years ago, and coming from a different musical background, I have only recently become familiar with her solo career, and after reading her words life just hasn’t been the same.
The thing is, through her genuine words I gave myself the chance to drop the shame I have about my own authenticity. Her work through the years moved me to unexpected destinations. Something clicked and gave me the strength to be proud of my work, read or unread, out there or in my journals; I stopped being ashamed of how I see the world, life, the past, the present.
On December 18 I was able to meet Stevie. As she held my hands tight in hers I felt a new energy flowing though me. As she held my hands tight in hers I saw the unfolding of my life until that very moment, with my husband next to me, glowing, happy.
That moment was one of the best Christmas gifts I’ve ever received: her light, her magic, and her inspiration, coming to me.
“Reach for your dreams,” she ended the concert after a heartbreaking version of Landslide. “Never let anybody tell you that you can’t, because it isn’t true: you can. Look at us,” she said, gesturing at her band.
“We did it, and so can you.”
Perhaps, but so genuine and unafraid of judgment that it was as if I was hearing those words for the first time in my life.
Merry Christmas! Thank you for reading my writing, for sharing your lives with me, and for coming along this journey.
With love, and gratitude.
Thank you, Stevie, and thank you Ben, for making this happen.
Merry Christmas! Thank you for reading my words, thank you for sharing your life with me, and thank you for coming along this fascinating journey.
With love, and gratitude.