As I sit in a café in… well I’m not really sure of the name of this town. I’m on the Italian coast. I marvel at surrender. I had a burning inside. Conflict. Trying to figure out my heartache. My action. Next steps. What do I do? Spinning inside. Broke my phone, car towed at home.
But still, I stood without reaction. Looking for center. Trying to find my peace. Meanwhile, it’s time to travel… the next town, the next park – the next country. I am in love. But my heart ached.
Yesterday I walked into a little shop in Venice, Italy. And I notice the time stop, the contrast of literality shattering my phone moments before. I had walked to the shop window to look in as I cleared my fields about the phone.
The shopkeeper was making a journal or sketchbook, by hand. I think maybe he’s made thousands… zip, pop, roll, press as he moved his hands out of time. He acknowledged me politely but never seemed to break stride.
Zip, pop, roll, press.
I moved through the shop noticing his quiet dedication. It surrounded me. Climbing the walls. Years of work. In fact he’s been making books by hand since 1962, no big deal.
He must have seen my astonishment. I wasn’t holding back. Perhaps I was a bookmaker in a past life. It just felt right being there. And my eyes began to swell and fill with tears. And at once I was crying.
Zip, pop, roll, press, he continued.
And then he stopped, pulled out a book. Clearly one he had made. He began to fan open the pages stopping to show the notes and the people who had signed the book. It was filled with thank-you’s for things he had made.
And as he turned the pages he’d stop and show a thank you note from Clint Eastwood, or Johnny Depp even George Clooney, ha. His giant book of gratitude had thank-you’s from people who found his tiny shop half way around the world.
Zip, pop, roll, press… outside of time.
And it hit me. What ailed me was trying to figure out my heartache. Not seeing my children, the conflict with their mother that I can’t seem to master – to heal. And how I ended up following my inner voice in the first place.
And I began to listen. I remember. YES. And I let go. The pain in my heart lifted. The bliss deepened. And I wept. I had Paolo sign my handmade journal. He made it. It just felt right. And he grabbed his book and had me sign his gratitude book.
The idea of one man handcrafting books in an off the path shop hidden deep in Venice for more than fifty years. Standing outside of time. Listening to his heart, making magic for those that find him.
The world comes waltzing through his door. And sends him gratitude from all across the globe.
And I remember,
Follow your heart, Robert. Listen to your inner voice. Be at peace. Be at one.
The world catches us with open arms. I promise. Every time. Sending you love from Italy. Thanks for reading.
Visit Paolo in Italy at Dorsoduro 3253, 30123 Venezia.