Nobody’s Property - Part II

And then we had an appointment at the real estate agent's office. Mauro had told me I could come the evening before - "you have your room here” - and that suited me well after five days in the hustle and bustle of Genoa.

So, on Saturday morning, we drove together to the agent's office. Mauro had dressed in a blue-toned Hawaiian shirt for the occasion, completed by synthetic track pants. With a practiced motion, he hoisted his large belly into the red Panda. Once seated, he put on his mirrored Ferrari sunglasses. We made an unlikely pair as we drove through the rolling hills of Monferrato.

There was just a bit of negotiation left to do at the agent's table. Nothing insurmountable. I really just had to decide. I could sign, or I could just walk out the door, light and free as a butterfly, just amazed by the present moment. I love traveling weightlessly through the world. I love the warmth of the south where I hardly need to wear clothes, just something to cover up. It’s to that extend that I love being weightless, without matter, without possessions.

I felt very thin and fragile as I sat there doing business with the two Italian men. I was at a crossroads, with two paths leading to entirely different galaxies of possibilities. Which path would I take? I couldn't help it, but as the agent was updating the final version of the contract, tears welled up in my eyes.

I’ve bought and sold, and bought again, large properties in the past - all with my strong will - and then freed myself from them to travel more and more lightly. Without my strong will.

In the end, those two galaxies are really just one galaxy, and experiencing that is my path and my being touched by life itself.

More tears.

"Non piangere," said the agent (don’t cry). I never mind crying and always find it a blessing, but for the two men, my tears were probably a bit uncomfortable. A problem they couldn't immediately solve.

Buying a big property in Italy isn’t my dream, not what I hoped for or particularly wanted. For all that dreaming, hoping, and wanting, I’d have to leave 'this one moment' and believe in a world of duality, of better and worse, of success and failure, of past and future, of winning and losing, of having or not having possessions. It’s all so far from that path, from experiencing that one galaxy of infinite possibilities.

"Possiamo firmare," I finally said (we can sign), smiling.

Mauro and I also gave each other a firm handshake. And then we went to the café. Standing at the bar, the men had a macchiato, and I had a blueberry juice.

On the drive back to 'our house,' Mauro and I talked about death.
"I think we end up in another dimension," he said, "and that it's pleasant there."
"I think we can already feel a bit of that dimension now," I said. It’s very moving. It’s like floating around in a galaxy of possibilities. That I didn’t say.

Much love,
Zoe

P.S. The deed will be signed in October. From then on, we can start using the property. More information and updates will appear in upcoming newsletters.

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