"Is that more news about Flynn?"

I feel schizophrenic. I write lovely blogs about gelato and feel superficial and miserable. I overdoes on serious news and feel depressed and miserable. It's a no win situation. I keep trying to find a good balance between engagement and self-preservation and keep coming up short. So I hope those of you who rolled your eyes (like I wanted to do) at my last blog post will forgive my inconsistency. When I try to write from the heart right now I feel split in two... schizophrenic.

One post I read recently really connected with what I am feeling so I thought I would pass it along. It was by one of my favorite bloggers, Chris Guillebeau. Titled- Reading the News Makes Me Depressed, but Here's What I Realized.... It posits that there is a direct relationship between someone's level of privilege and their ability to disconnect from politics. It is a point that keeps coming back to me in different ways. On NPR I heard an author, Michael Eric Dyson, speaking about his newly released book, Tears We Cannot Stop: A Sermon to White America. A call to action on the part of white America, I find myself struck with some of the points he made; particularly his point about how different our fears are. On any day the thing I am most afraid of is getting a call from school about my daughter. But for black Americans, Dyson points out that the answer to this is, honestly, the fear of being pulled over and harmed (shot) by a police officer. The scale is so completely different it is no wonder my reaction is to close down and back off.

So what can we do? How do I balance this real desire for justice and honesty and authenticity with my own lack of understanding and call to action? I don't think I'll be out there posting angry blogs about my feelings, nor witty comments along the lines of SNL. Instead, I feel I need to take a slower, more personal approach of curiosity. I find I have less to say, than I do to learn.

So Thursday, when I received my copy of it from Amazon, I am going to begin reading a new book on the history of legalized self-defense in America: Stand Your Ground: A History of America's Love Affair with self-defense. It was written by Caroline E. Light, a brilliant legal historian at Harvard, and I am proud to say, a friend of mine. If you'd like to read and discuss it also, comment below and I'll create a separate password and civility protected page where we can begin to learn and grow together.

Here's to all of our journeys.... whether they be filled with gelato or NPR.
​Deanne Wilsted

"I could use some sun right now."

That one sentence caught all of our attention. Chatters stopped chatting. Readers stopped reading. And I stopped typing. Sunshine! It was like a magic word from Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.Like winning the Golden Ticket. Only weeks away from my vacation to Mexico I could practically taste the flavors of sunshine.... margarita, guacamole, and gelato.

WAIT - what? Gelato isn't Mexican. No, but fortunately we are going to a resort that has an Italian restaurant on site so I can still get my gelato fix. Even in Mexico I require some bit of Italy to remind me of real sunshine. The kind that burns your nose and makes you feel lazy and languorous. Sunshine that, even as it fades to a golden light in the late afternoon, continues to shimmer off of the grapevines in the vineyards.

My Italian memories of sunshine all seem to have that golden glow to them. I think it is a function of the light bouncing off of the sand colored stones and buildings. And, in Sestri Levante at least, sunshine met its counterpoint in the cool water of the Mediterranean and the creamy coolness of gelato.

Images like this were what came to mind when I wrote about Aiden and Lucia as they walked through one of my favorite Italian towns. Sestri Levante, when I visited, was packed with people... just as I imagined it to be for them. It had the festive air of people on vacation. The pink and gold buildings gave off that golden glow I described above. And there was definitely gelato.... plenty of gelato. And so beautifully scooped it took my breath away.