As I sit in a nearby caffe’ bar, within these medieval walls and aside appreciative locals adorned in furs and joy, I contemplate my living abroad experience thus far. The Italian life is unique in that living is simple, relationships are at the center of everything, and happiness is a given. Having transitioned from American ways to Italian living, I see the differences between the two.
Last year, I did a semester-long sociological research project on yogis living in downtown Portland, Oregon, and focused on answering the question: How can yogis maintain happiness with living in a money-driven nation when their occupation choice is so financially slim? After interviewing a number of yogis at Yoga on Yamhill, a donation-based yoga studio in downtown Portland, and extensively researching the topic through scholarly journals, etc., I discovered the answer. And it very much so correlates with the Italian lifestyle. Italians and yogis live similarly, with their happiness not dependent on money, but instead on the people, family, and relationships they create. This means that, no matter the situation, Italians and anyone else living a, what I like to call, “yogic lifestyle,” will always remain content if cherished ones are always in their lives.
The economy is quite harsh here in Siena, and all over Italy even; jobs are slim and many of the cities depend mostly on tourism for profit. Although this financial presence exists, I still see people laughing more than sulking. My Italian mother and I had a conversation about this the other day; she agrees with me that people acknowledge the financial situation here in Siena, but that does not mean that people are unhappy. Italians accept the status quo, work to make it better, and appreciate what they do have instead of dwell on what they could have. In a nutshell, the larger the friends and family and the more good times had, the ‘wealthier’ in happiness one is, in a sense.
Living with an Italian single mother and her six year old son is intriguing, as I see this “yogic lifestyle” being manifested in every action the two partake in – and with me, now, as well. My Italian mother’s name is Francesca. From day one she introduced me to her friends and family as her daughter, “mia bella figlia.” Day two came around, and I arrived home to find a bouquet of freshly-picked Rosemary on my desk with a tidied-up room. Day three came, and by then this “yogic lifestyle” and love she had shared had already rubbed off on me: I knit her an infinity scarf and her son fingerless gloves, both of which they wear on a daily basis now. From then on, it’s been a vicious, beautiful spiral of good vibes being exchanged between us – and I seriously feel like a part of the Italian family now. I have one Euro in my wallet and a blissful Italian family to come home to every night. In other words, I’m as ‘wealthy’ as ever.
