Leave Your Fear Here on the Page

Mid-April. Morning. Snow covering the green lawn. Leah gets up and makes coffee and the pot leaks water all over the counter. 

Leah sitting in meditation thinks about her daughter, a nurse practitioner working in an inner city clinic in Boston during the pandemic. Leah feels afraid.

She stops meditating and picks up her journal.

She translates on her phone:

“Leave your fear here on the page.”

Lascia qui la tua paura sulla pagina.

She goes back to meditating. She focuses on love. Suddenly words flood into her mind in Italian. She has no need for the translator:

"Te voglio bene Leah."

I love you Leah.

“Te amo bambina piccola.”

I love you little girl.

“Senti l’amore! Senti l’amore!”

Feel the love! Feel the love!

“SENTI L’AMORE PER TUTTI!”

FEEL THE LOVE FOR EVERYONE!

Parlo l’italiano!

I speak Italian!

Later she checks the phrases in the translator, and they are all correct. She didn’t need help knowing what to say in the language of her ancestors.

She sits down in meditation. She whispers over and over again:

Lascia qui la tua paura sulla pagina.

Later, after she prints out the chapter, she carries the typed page in her hand as she walks slowly up and back in the hallway.

Leave your fear here on the page.

Lascia qui la tua paura sulla pagina.