The Mediterranean is the Color of Optimism

Copyright: Emma K Coleman

     Speaking the Italian language is what making love sounds like if it were a language. There is so much passion and love in each pronunciation. Your soul does not just experience love and passion. Your mouth can experience the physical exercise of passionately loving to speak one of the oldest languages in the world.
      I don't know what it is with the English language.....especially American English. The choppy nature of pessimism seems to resonate throughout each strenuous over pronounced statement. When I speak Italian I feel that my passion towards people and my desire to serve those using my health care knowledge will be fulfilled each day. When I speak English I feel the constant sensation that my life is just playing out over another day and one less dollar.
    I go to the Walsh University campus roof top terrace almost daily to see the sun come up and go down over the Mediterranean. The Mediterranean is the sea that my grandparents crossed to come to America. The Mediterranean is the sea that I crossed to come back to Italy. Watching the sun rise and fall over the Mediterranean reminds me of the optimism I had to choose to come to Italy. The color reminds me that my heart speaks the passionate sound of service towards people. I have to ask this question because I am falling in love with the optimism of Italian daily life. What will my life be like now that I have experienced the passionate daily exercise of speaking and living the Italian way of life? How can I be optimistic returning back to the over pronounced American way of living?
      One thing I know is that my life has changed. My old comfortable foundation, that I thought I was building my life on, has been rocked by something beautiful and inexplicable beyond the ancient language that breaths life into each day. Each morning I wake up before the sun says Ciao to Italia. I grab my cappuccino and go directly to the roof to listen for the optimism of Italy to awaken. I try and stop the anxiety of American pessimism to soon overwhelm me in the coming weeks when I cross over the Mediterranean the same direction as my grandparents did. For right now, I try and stay in the moment and breath in the passionate beauty that lives around me creating the color of optimism painting the lovely view of the Mediterranean.