Notes to Self: What Italy Taught Me About Becoming

On old wisdom, new experiences, learning to receive, and the beauty of not having it all figured out.

I went to Italy for a yoga retreat, a little adventure, and a very special gong pilgrimage.

I came home with new instruments, beautiful memories, a few mosquito bites, and some unexpected lessons.

And no, I didn't return as a completely new person.

I'm not sure that's even the goal anymore.

There's a lot of conversation about reinvention. Your next chapter. Your new era. Becoming a whole new you.

I get it. I really do.

But lately, I've been thinking that maybe growth isn't about leaving your old self behind. Maybe it's about taking everything you've learned, everything you've lived, and allowing it to evolve into something new.

Italy gave me plenty of opportunities to explore that idea.

Here are a few notes to self that I'm bringing home.

1. You don't have to become someone new to grow.

Italy has a funny way of reminding you that old and new can coexist beautifully.

Ancient buildings are still standing. Old traditions are very much alive. And everywhere you look, people are finding new ways to live, create, and connect within them.

I felt that same connection during my visit to Grotta Sonora, where I picked up a custom gong.

There was something incredibly powerful about experiencing instruments rooted in ancient traditions being explored in entirely new ways.

It reminded me of my own journey.

My background in yoga, my years in marketing, my love of movement, my sound healing practice, my curiosity about what's next—none of these things need to compete with each other.

They're all part of the same story.

Note to self: You don't need to erase the old to make room for the new.

2. Receiving is a practice, too.

I'm pretty comfortable being the person who makes things happen.

Planning. Organizing. Teaching. Supporting. Figuring things out.

Receiving? Still working on that one.

During my visit to Grotta Sonora, I was invited to sit inside a gong and simply experience the sound.

Not lead. Not facilitate. Not manage the experience.

Just receive.

And wow.

It was a beautiful reminder that being on the receiving end of something can be just as meaningful as being the person creating it.

I spend a lot of time holding space for other people, whether that's in a yoga class, a sound bath, or everyday life.

Italy reminded me that I need that space, too.

Note to self: You can be capable, generous, and strong—and still allow yourself to be held.

3. Curiosity is a pretty wonderful compass.

One of my favorite parts of traveling is being reminded of how much I don't know.

New places. New people. New traditions. New ways of approaching things I thought I understood.

Even after years of practicing yoga and working with sound, I found myself learning, experimenting, and feeling like a beginner again.

And I loved it.

There's something freeing about not needing to be the expert in the room.

To ask questions. To play. To be surprised.

I think we sometimes put pressure on ourselves to have everything figured out, especially as we get older.

But curiosity doesn't have an expiration date.

Note to self: Stay curious. Being a beginner is a gift.

4. Movement can take you somewhere unexpected.

I've spent years moving my body through yoga, strength training, and now rebounding.

Movement has always been part of my life, but my relationship with it continues to change.

During the retreat in Puglia, I found myself exploring the countryside by bike, walking through ancient towns, and returning to my mat with fresh perspective.

Not every movement needs a performance goal.

Sometimes it's about feeling strong. Sometimes it's about exploring. Sometimes it's about connecting with your breath, your surroundings, or the people beside you.

And sometimes it's simply about joy.

That's something I keep coming back to when I teach Joy Bounce.

Note to self: Movement doesn't always have to be about improvement. Sometimes the experience is enough.

5. There's room for more than one version of you.

I love my work in marketing. I love producing things, collaborating with creative people, and bringing ideas to life.

I also love teaching yoga, facilitating sound baths, bouncing on a Bellicon, and exploring this expanding world of wellness.

For a while, I've been asking myself how these pieces fit together.

Do I need to choose a direction? Pick a lane? Make some grand declaration about what's next?

Maybe not.

Maybe I can continue building something that draws on all of it.

Because the skills and experiences I've collected aren't separate lives. They're layers.

And I'm starting to appreciate how beautifully those layers can work together.

Note to self: You are allowed to be more than one thing.

6. The journey doesn't need a grand conclusion.

I wish I could tell you that somewhere between Rome, Calcata, and Puglia, I had a life-changing revelation that answered every question about what comes next.

I didn't.

What I did find were moments of clarity, connection, gratitude, and inspiration.

I learned some things. I questioned others. I made new friends. I explored. I played. I rested. I laughed.

And I came home with a renewed appreciation for the life I've already built—and genuine excitement about what I might build next.

Not a reinvention.

An evolution.

One that doesn't require me to have all the answers right now.

Note to self: You can be a work in progress and still love where you are.

A final note to self

Maybe that's what this next chapter is really about.

Not becoming a different person.

Just continuing to learn from the person I've been, staying open to the person I'm becoming, and making room for a little more joy along the way.

On the mat. In a sound bath. On a Bellicon. Somewhere halfway around the world.

Or right here at home.

More notes to self coming soon.