Italy Part 2 – The Sistine Chapel

I’ve tried at least four times now to write the second Italy post.  I want to write about the Sistine Chapel and how I thought that super famous painting of God reaching out and nearly touching fingers with Adam was the entirety of the ceiling.  On my trip, I learned that that particular fresco is called “The Creation of Adam.”  I also learned that “The Creation of Adam” is but a small part of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.  A very small part.

I wish I had a picture to offer of all the beauty and color in that place, both on the ceiling and all the walls, but we weren’t allowed to photograph in the Sistine Chapel. All we could do was stand quietly and look and hope to remember.

I remember how it felt standing in a mass of people and being watched by security, particularly for violations of the no camera policy.  I remember, under the buzz of the “silence” of the masses, wishing everyone would just go outside and leave me alone in that place for just a minute.  That feels fresh to me.  But just a few weeks away from my trip, I’m already forgetting the details of how it looked.  I’ve even forgotten where on the ceiling “The Creation of Adam” was located.

The trip, though it was mere weeks ago, feels far away.

Since I’ve gotten back, I’m in the reality of work, task lists, extra pounds, divorce, death, and other heartaches of various kinds.  My work is wonderful – an incredible gift in so many ways – so I don’t include that on the list to complain.  But with everything going on, including the rush of getting back on top of things with my work, I feel like I’ve lost the serenity of being on the other side of the world way more quickly than I expected.

Right now, I can’t imagine living out of a suitcase, eating three big meals a day, seeing something new every day, and experiencing wonder constantly. The wonder I’m experiencing is less “wow, that’s beautiful” and more “seriously, did she just do that?”  I’m not asking, “Where are we heading today? Can we take pictures in there? Where should we have dinner?” Instead, I’m asking, “What should I do now? How should I handle this? Can this be fixed?” It’s just all so much…heavier.

I miss the lightness of Italy terribly. I miss standing in the Sistine Chapel where the only thing on my mind was my desire for some alone time in that space, without the masses and without the security.  I want so much to be looking at “The Creation of Adam” again.  And if I can’t look at it, I at least don’t want the memory of it to fade quite so fast.

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