Let's stay a while

finding pause with no purpose.

I’m currently using Shook as an act of resistance by exploring feel-good stories in a time of perpetual bad news.

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You know what needs to go? The whole concept of “to-go”.

I’ve been fortunate enough to spend some time in Italy twice this past year (s/o friends and weddings) and these moments of being back in europe awoke a longing in me that I didn’t know was there.

I don’t smoke but as soon as I landed, seeing the directions for a designated smoking area at FCO put a smile on my face. I missed european ways of being. Of spending your days differently, centered around how much time you deserve to take vs. how much time you should try to squeeze in one more thing. I missed the banter, the slowness, the romance, the ease of going with the flow and not rushing. I didn’t miss the racism but that’s a conversation for another time.

The main difference between EU countries and the US for me, is that they work to live, and not live to work.

What a luxury it was to spend a whole week with my fam, between Rome and Perugia; they had never been to Italy despite only being a two hour flight away. One morning, we went to get coffee, which is about as serious to Italians as religion, apertivo, the list goes on. My Italian is bad enough as it is, but explaining to the barista that I wanted to take my coffee “to-go” seemed like the most absurd thing she’d heard that day — and Rome is not short on American tourists. In fact, she looked pissed. The sweet little cafe, nestled under the balcony of our Airbnb in Monti, didn’t even have lids for takeaway cups. As I scrambled for a packet of sugar, it gave me pause:

Because where the fuck am I going that I can’t spend 10-15 mins drinking my coffee right then and there, at the espresso bar like god herself had intended.

After that, I was obsessed with had watching the city move at a glacial pace.

The lingering breakfasts, long 3-course lunches, an afternoon spritz, a late dinner. Watching people just take their time to be, and actually enjoy the things they were spending money on felt foreign. Whatever little time I had, I tried to spend mirroring this same thing, and found it hard. Like anything, it will take some practice. One morning, while sitting (go me) with my mum at breakfast, I couldn’t keep my eyes off an older man wearing the chicest leather jacket, smoking a ciggy and watching the birds. He looked so peaceful. It was heavenly.

Convenience culture in the name of hyper productivity has fucked us. So much so that we’re too busy to stop. Our coffees with their big ass corporate logos are dragged with us on trains and in cars, and our favorite restaurants always have seats available in plastic containers on our couches. Sometimes I even catch myself walking and eating a pastry. Just over a week in my parents hometown in England, I’ve seen more drive through Costa’s then I ever needed to. Like why bitch.

It was very fitting that just a few weeks earlier I had dinner with an Italian at Rolo’s in Ridgewood. After about 3 hours and an approximately at 11pm (on a Sunday mind you) he ordered us two espresso’s and I nearly had a heart attack. Not because of the caffeine, but at the idea that the dinner was still going. Lucky for me, it was all in the name of good company. The evening left a deep impression on me that not everything is meant to be rushed. It was the pre-lude to my trip.

So I’ll ask: When was the last time you stopped and smelled the roses? And the feint trail of cigarettes before they become ash, whether you smoke or not.