I came home from Italy Saturday evening with a suitcase full of clothes, lots of pictures, amazing memories, a handful of souvenirs, and something far more valuable: a realignment of how I want to live.
I expected to fall in love with all the usual Italy things—food, architecture, the dramatic landscapes, the wine, the art. And of course, I did. But what stayed with me wasn’t all of that. t was the way people moved through their days: slower, intentional, and with a deep, unhurried reverence for craftsmanship, family, long conversations, and the ordinary moments we (me) easily rush past.
Italy reminded me of a truth I had forgotten how to practice: Life isn't just something to manage. It's meant to be enjoyed.
1. The Art of Unhurried Time
Maybe it's just me, but there is a subtle danger in modern life: even when we are technically resting, a part of our brain remains tethered to the clock. I realized how often I am physically in one moment while mentally sprinting to the next.
Italy forced me to put the phone down and let time stretch. It invited me to sit at the table a little longer, to engage fully in the conversation in front of me, and to simply exist where I was. What is the point of working so hard to build a beautiful life if you’re moving too fast to actually experience it?
Pictured Above: I am still in awe in the beauty, like pictured above, everywhere.
2. Beauty Is Worth the Effort
Everywhere I looked, I saw the mark of human hands. Craftsmanship wasn't reserved for museums; it was woven into daily life. It's in the details of a door, a thoughtfully set table, how grapes are harvested for wine, cobblestone streets, or a dish prepared with patient care.
It was a striking reminder that beauty doesn't have to be extravagant to matter. Caring about how something is made isn't frivolous; it's a form of respect for the human experience.
Pictured above: Me enjoying a glass of excellent wine--just because!
3. Stop Saving the Good Stuff for "Someday"
We carry so much artificial pressure to save our finest things for the right moment (at least I do). But Italy asked a simple question: What if the occasion is simply being alive?
Drink the nice wine. Wear the clothes that bring you joy. Make your favorite food on a random weeknight. Celebrate the ordinary moments, because our lives are made up almost entirely of them. Enjoying something beautiful right now doesn't mean you lack discipline; it means you understand the assignment.
4. Radical Hospitality and Open Tables
One of the most moving parts of the trip was experiencing Italian hospitality. We were invited into homes and gathered around tables. Money & status was never the price of admission.
It reminded me that a rich life isn't measured by money or status or fancy things, but by who we let in—the people we love, the people that surround us, the people we laugh with, and make space for at our tables.
Pictured above: More than once Caedon was invited into the kitchen and shown how pizzas were made. And he was fully embraced and welcomed....it was beautiful.
5. Including Kids in the Full Spectrum of Life
I loved seeing how naturally children were integrated into every setting. They weren't relegated to a separate room or fed early so the adults could have "real" time. They were at the center of the gatherings, sitting at the long tables, listening to the laughter, tasting the food, and taking part in the celebration. Childhood doesn't have to happen on the sidelines while adults live life; kids can be part of the beauty as it unfolds.
6. The Process Is the Reward
In the kitchen, as in life, food in Italy is about far more than sustenance. It’s about the sourcing of ingredients, the anticipation, the slow simmer, and the shared enjoyment of the final dish.
I love the act of creation—taking a raw idea and turning it into something tangible that others can feel, use, or experience. Craftsmanship resonated with me so deeply because it reflected my own core drive: the process of making things with care is just as meaningful as the finished product.
My Purpose
If I’m being honest, this was the biggest takeaway of all. Italy didn’t hand me a brand-new purpose; it confirmed the one I already had.
I was born to create beautiful things that people can enjoy.
There is profound value in that. The work I do fuels my ability to experience the world—to travel, learn, give, and evolve. The goal was never to work ourselves to the bone so that we can finally enjoy life in some distant retirement. The goal is to design a life and a career that allows us to savor the journey while we're making it.
So, I’m bringing a piece of Italy home with me:
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To slow down and put the phone away.
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To make things with my hands and care about the details.
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To open my doors before everything is "ready."
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To always include my kiddo in the middle of the mess and the magic.
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To wear the good clothes and drink the good wine.
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To stop moving so fast that I miss the very life I'm building.
Life is happening right now. I want to make beautiful things, share them with people I love, and take my time doing it.
Amanda
