Rome

"Rome was a poem pressed into service as a city." Anatole Broyard

I have been to Rome twice--for a total of three and half days. Given this paucity of experience, it seems more than a little ridiculous to write anything at all about this city. But the feelings I have for Rome are so strong, I am curious about what causes them and whether other people feel the same way.

Both of my visits were marred by larger and smaller travel mistakes and problems. On my first visit in 2015, I discovered that Rome is not a bad place to have an ugly-cry-in-public emotional meltdown. That was in August, when (according to the entire world's travel advice) I should not have been in Rome anyway. Without going into too much detail, some confusion with family members back home ended with me driving alone back and forth to the Rome airport and missing our carefully planned breakfast at the Vatican with a private tour of the Sistine Chapel. Our cellphones on that trip were functioning only sporadically, and Randy and I had only managed to communicate that we would try to meet in St. Peter's Square. It was there that I had a not-that-small breakdown. Somewhere there is a quote about Italy being the last place on earth where you are allowed to be truly human. I can't find the quote, but I think I lived that experience in St. Peter's.

On my most recent trip, I was happy, but utterly exhausted. I met Randy there after traveling through Spain with my daughter the week before. Delayed flights and hostel stays meant I had only slept an hour or two in the previous two days. After an early flight from Barcelona, I arrived at the Termini Station in a fog. Randy met me there and we took a car to our apartment. I had meant to book a hotel, because I wanted the ease and convenience of a front desk and breakfast, but in all my planning for the trip to Spain and the trip Randy and I were about to take to Sicily, I'd forgotten to rebook these two nights in Rome. It was a second floor walk-up with an elevator big enough for luggage from the first to the second floor. All of the luggage had to be carried from the ground floor to the first floor. I had not packed light.  

The apartment had a sophisticated Italian feel. We walked across the street to a cafe crowded with Italians. I felt like I was in a beautiful dream, among Italians again for the first time in five years. As we walked around that afternoon and evening, I felt lightened and comforted and wonderstruck. How could I ever stay away from Rome?  

When I think of Rome even at home, my heart soars. Rome is beautiful, not pretty.

Jung refers to the "spirit that broods there" and he avoided visiting the city because he thought his encounter with this spirit may have been overwhelming.

I am reading Anthony Doerr's Four Seasons in Rome : On Twins, Insomnia, and the Biggest Funeral in the History of the World, and Doerr does an excellent job of describing the feeling of humanity and history in Rome. Since the Pantheon is my favorite place in Rome, I particularly like his description of standing under that dome:

"The space is both intimate and explosive: your humanity is not diminished in the least, yet simultaneously the Pantheon forces you to pay attention to the fact that the world includes things far greater than yourself."

This quote sums up how I feel about all of Rome. Perhaps living in Rome is an entirely different experience, since we all have to get on with daily life. How could you let in all of the power of Rome if you just needed to get to work and make dinner? But as a visitor, Rome has a singular power to remind me of the sweep of history,the miracle of existence, and our common humanity.

I made a video about our last trip to Rome. I wish I could capture more of the place.

One final story  keeps coming back to me as I think about what makes Rome. On our first trip we toured the Coliseum with a wonderful guide. Before that tour I didn't realize that the Catholic Church had reclaimed the Coliseum for Christ. I had  wondered whether I even wanted to see such a dark place. On that tour, I learned that the Pope actually uses the ruin for the procession on Good Friday. How wonderful to face the darkness while preparing for the Resurrection celebration of Easter. What a visceral reminder of the death Christ defeated.

This is one more story of the thousands of Rome stories that face truth with all its ugliness and still conclude in beauty.