Cittiglio’s Waterfalls

I know it is too long that I do not write, way too long. Two months in Italy to recharge the batteries. Two months of holidays, food, friends, relatives, love, sighs, laughter, sports, sea, faces, talks and even a few teardrops. Two months of places visited. Many things have happened to me: intense, unexpected and in the middle of a pile of shit (excuse me for the French), I felt extremely alive, happy and loved. It is true that life is not programmed, there are no Excel files with times and dates, events, phrases, people to put in a column. Life is more like a moving ocean, a giant blender, a summer storm. And this year I decided to close

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YOGA

I know, it’s too long I do not write. I would like to update you on my Sociological Experiment, I would like to tell you about the horrific giant cockroaches that infest my home, I would like to take a few hours off to discover the lost corners of Hong Kong, like taking the ferry, leaving the island and go to read the future from Mong Kok’s fortune tellers. Instead, I spend all my time and all my energy in Yoga. So now I’m talking about it. Have patience, the heart cannot control. First and foremost, a premise that I have a heart to do after reading the comments and the atrocities on the various social media  as a result

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Italy: Falling Stars

“In Italy there is a tradition celebrated every year on August 10th  called the “Saint Lawrence Night”. Legend has it  during this period of the month there’s a strong shooting stars activity (Perseids), and everybody during these summer nights looks up to the sky waiting to see one falling. If you are so lucky to see one star falling, you can express a desire that could be realized.”   “Today is Saint Lawrence night,” I say with a sigh looking at the sky. “Mom who is Lawrence?” “Saint Lawrence. He is a Saint, no one remembers why he is holy. We all remember him just for the falling stars.” “Mom, I do not understand what it means to be Holy, what

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Maura and The Do-It-Yourself

Today I build a bed. I go to Ikea with Emma, walk around the bedroom area and after evaluating the various models by pros and cons, stability, size and color of the structure, we choose a wonderful MALM. White single bed that is always fashionable, high headboard really comfortable for young readers, two beautiful drawers for keeping all the “secrets” which I promise to never open. After the bed section, Emma dives on all the mattresses in the furniture exhibition. She bounces, stretches out, tries to get to the side and then to her favorite sleep position, belly down with the butt up. I never understood how she can sleep like this. In the end, the choice falls on a

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