CHAPTER FIFTEEN: "Longing to Belong!"

One of the fears that has dominated my family is that you aren't "safe" if you stray too far away from...yes, the family -- la familigia! Italian American immigrants, like so many other immigrant groups, tended to cluster together, at least at first. My mom grew up in a small neighborhood populated by people she knew. So did my father.

When my father moved our family from the family hub in Bristol, Connecticut an hour and a half away into New York state, my brother and sister and I

felt a deep loss. I remember we moved the day before my 8th birthday.

On my birthday, I tried to run away. We had moved into a plain Cape Cod style house in a subdivision. Because my parents were financially strapped buying the house, the second floor wasn't finished off. The walls consisted of bare two by fours, and in between, long layers of pink insulation. It was spooky!

I remember leaving by the back door that led out from the garage. I don't remember where I went, or how long I was gone. Try as I might, I don't remember anything more about that day except that I was upset. Angry. Confused. Needless to say, though, I returned before evening. I learned to live in the new house. Eventually, my dad put up sheet rock and finished off the two bedrooms for me and my siblings.

I'm thinking about that sad day in November of 1960 today, as my husband and I prepare to move back to our house in Massachusetts. For the last three months, we have been living in Denver, near our son, Noah, as well as our daughter, Lindsay, her husband, Geoff, and their precious little boy, Monte.

We've had a great stay. I've had the chance to babysit for my grandson several times. We have loved the weather, and have taken lots of wonderful hikes in beautiful places. There have been many days when I thought "oh heck we should just move here."

Ah, but then, just as soon as I think that, I remember: we have beloved family in Boston, and elsewhere back east, including our daughter Jocelyn, her husband, Evan, and our darling grandchildren, Ronen and Dani.

I feel torn apart. My heart aches when I think about leaving Monte and my children next week.

I keep telling myself to grow up and accept reality. I keep telling myself, "you know exactly what you should do: focus on being grateful for all of your blessings. Live mindfully, staying in the moment, appreciating the myriad joys that happen all through the day."

But part of me refuses to buy into what I know I need to do! This recalcitrant -- childish -- part of me is a persistent voice but also, sometimes it feels like a bodily sensation. It's almost as if my ancestors are all lurking somewhere, deep inside my brain, or they are out there in the cosmos calling to me: they are the angels who keep whispering in my ears. The message from these ancestors -- "questi antenati" -- is crystal clear: when you return to your house in Massachusetts, you will have no family living near you! You will go back to that feeling you often have there, that you are lonely, that you don't belong there! You will feel like you don't belong anywhere!

Before I know it, hearing these messages rumbling around in my mind, I feel incredibly sad. This longing for family upends me completely and sometimes I find myself in tears!

And so it is that I am captive of a very old family script, one that says you aren't safe or happy or complete when you don't live next door to your loved ones.

Back when I was 8 years old, my parents and siblings and I drove from our house in New York State to Connecticut to see our grandparents. We did that almost every weekend! It never occurred to us not to! For one thing, my mom missed her mother and father. And we kids missed our grandparents.

By the time I went off to college, however, I was delighted to get away from home, escaping what felt like a stifling (and old-fashioned) family environment. Over the next few years, I traveled here, there and everywhere. I worked in Boston, then went to graduate school in Berkeley, California. Then I worked in Chicago, and after that, New York. At one point, my mother counted 21 different addresses for me.

Not too long after I married my husband Richard in 1978, we both decided that we wanted to move back East so that our (future) children would know their grandparents.

After some 15 years of moving here there and everywhere, I settled with my husband in an old farmhouse in rural Columbia County, New York -- ironically, it was only an hour away from my parents and the home where I grew up. Rich and I lived in that farmhouse,

and raised three children there, for the next 30 years!

As our children left for college and set up their own lives, one thing became clear: none of the kids intended to live close to our old farmhouse. All three of them eshewed the rural lifestyle in favor of city life.

Like so many families, we are spread out.

Do other people feel the way I do? Do they feel lonely, and like they don't belong anywhere? Or is it just me? Is it because of my ancestry that I feel so...disconnected?

My rational side keeps trying to convince me that there is only one solution: stay riveted in the present moment, no matter where you find yourself! Accept what is. And don't give into the longings that characterized your ancestors.

Yes, yes, I know all that. But now that I am a grandparent I want to live close to my grandchildren, just like my parents and grandparents did before me!

Curiously, my sister Holly and I were talking about our family situation recently. She lives in the same Massachusetts town as our sister Karen, Karen's husband Dale, as well as Karen's daughter, Lauren and her family (including two adorable little ones, Lily and Scarlett.)

Even though Holly lives close to these family members, she confided that she too often feels lonely. She finds herself asking "what am I doing here?"

We decided that the last time we didn't feel that loneliness was when our Mom and Dad were still alive, and they occupied their cozy brick house in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. We can't let go of our desire to gather at that house, the way we used to for all the holidays.

As I add this photo of Mom and me in her Pittsfield kitchen, Christmas of 2010, I can't hold back tears. Recently, I told someone in a condolence card that I don't think I will ever stop missing my mother.

*******

I stepped away from writing this piece a few minutes ago because Noah arrived; he was having dinner with us here in Denver, as he has several times since we arrived in January.

We eat fried fish, baked sweet potatoes and bok choy, and we watch part of a movie. Then Noah says it's time for him to leave.

"When will I see you again?" he asks, just before he drives off in his truck.

"Not sure," I say. I mumble something about maybe seeing him for his birthday in June. I'm feeling fine when I go to bed but the next morning, I find myself missing him. And feeling...lonely. Ugh.

That's when I hear my mom, who passed away in 2015, reminding me that for so many years, she and my dad were constantly looking forward to the next time that they would see us kids.

I didn't really get it in those days. I was busy with my work, my writing, the kids, and our lives separate from our parents.

"In those days, we missed you all the time," Mom is saying, "just the way you are missing your own kids. Now you see what your dad and I went through. You know the old saying, 'what goes around comes around!'"

*******

So what does all of this loneliness have to do with healing?

Everything. As medical anthropologist and modern shaman Alberto Villoldo says, "The mind can heal you or it can kill you."

The brain serves up stories of all kinds, some of them as old as time, like this story supplied by my ancestors -- the intense need/desire to live physically close to one another.

After my grandfather Claude, my mother's father, left Italy in 1896, at the age of 16, he never saw his mother again. He and his brothers settled in Connecticut, where I was born. Back in Italy, his mother, Domenica Rotondo, wailed continually about how she had been abandoned by her sons. Her daughter, Lauretta, who remained in Italy, visited her mother every Sunday; for years, Lauretta listened to her mother moan about her sons' leaving; Domenica earned the nickname "abandonada" for herself, abandonada meaning the "abandoned one."

Dr. Villoldo would say that this story of abandonment is one that has trickled down through the generations, landing in me. In therapy through the years I have repeatedly identified my own tendency to feel abandoned -- there was my mother who "abandoned" me at the age of four when she was too sick to take care of me.

There was the abandonment I suffered when two of my children moved to Colorado.

There is the feeling of abandonment I can feel whenever I say goodbye to my children.

Dr. Villoldo would say that this story of abandonment doesn't serve me. He would tell me that it is part of a limiting belief system, an old-fashioned world view all tied up with fear that is not at all useful or healty.

I need to tell a new story, he would say, one that will empower me spiritually and psychologically. One that will take me out of the worn out belief systems of my ancestors, one that can propel me confidently into the future.

Villoldo would say that in order to be happy and healthy, we must deal with all of the fear and anxiety we have. For me, it's accepting the reality that I can't possibly be in two places at once. I am bound to miss one set of children or grandchildren, no matter if I live in the East, or out here in the West.

We must accept the fact that things change; we get older and we lose loved ones.

And yet fear is exactly that: fear! It helps to visualize it as being a part of the ancient limbic brain, which Dr. Villoldo says is characterized by the four primitive F's: fear, fighting, feeding and fornication.

It helps too to think about what my spiritually-minded therapist Mary always used to say: you carry your loved ones in your heart all the time, including the ones who have passed on. To get in touch with them, all you need to do is close your eyes and feel the love you have for them, and the love they have for you! Concentrate on that love, and let the glow keep growing until it envelopes you completely.

Mary is a big believer in unconditional self-love, too. Whenever I would complain that I was missing my children or grandchildren, she would tell me that I needed to "love myself more," that is, I needed to immerse myself deeper in positive feelings towards myself. Part of that involves immersing myself in activities that bring joy and fulfillment to me as an individual. Don't give into feelings (or stories) of loss, scarcity or insecurity, she would say. In this way, she echoes Dr. Villoldo.

*********

There are on average 300 sunny

days a year in Denver. Combine that with the steady inspiration offered by the Colorado mountains and well, it feeds my soul. It feeds my painting muse as well.

No matter if there is a huge snowstorm one day. The next day, or the day after, all the ice and snow in the streets is GONE!

"It just keeps being sunny."

That'a the sentence that popped into my head just now. So often back East, the day begins bright and sunny but by afternoon, grey clouds move in.

Not here. It just keeps being sunny. All day. And that keeps me sunny too! Living here has been given me the strength and inspiration I need to challenge my ancestors' stories. It's as if a giant lamp has been turned on, illuminating my life fears.

Hiking and walking every day are part of the Denver equation too. The more I walk and hike, the more I want to walk and hike. I remember a time not too long ago when Rich would suggest we take a hike and often my reaction was, "oh, what, that again? You mean I have to huff and puff my way up another hill or mountain?"

But I don't have that reaction anymore.

I know that the more I walk, the better I feel.

*********

Ironically, the clouds have moved in this morning. I have to laugh -- it's almost as if I'm getting a taste of the weather I have to face next week.

Oh well. A couple hours ago, after meditating, I wrote down the word "ACCEPTANCE" in large letters in my journal. And then I wrote down the Italian translation: "Accettazione."

Enough. Time to grow up. And now, go for a walk.

p.s. OK, so I thought I was done. But as I was finishing writing this piece, feeling so sad, I asked my mom to send me a sign.

Well, I'm not sure Mom is responsible, but the next thing I know I am staring at this photo in my iphone: four generations of women!

Me on the left, 33 years old, (pregnant with daughter Lindsay), then Jocelyn, almost two, Grandma Michelina, age 85, and my Mom, age 60. We are sitting in Grandma Mish's living room, in front of a painting (done by my Aunt Marcella) of Grandma's ancestral village in Italy. This photo, almost 40 years old, is one of my all-time favorites. I will get a print out and add it to those I keep by my meditation space. And then this photo pops up on the iphone: Jocelyn's daughter, Dani, looking so much like her mom.

Looking at these photos, I'm smiling thinking, OK, so I belong here, in this cozy line of women. I see myself becoming...an ancestor!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: "HERE NOW THE MOST BASIC FEAR OF ALL: THE EVIL EYE!!!!!"

That last chapter was supposed to take care of fear. Ha! If only it were that easy.

Just as I finished writing Chapter Thirteen, I realized that I hadn't finished discussing fear. This morning it came back with a vengeance. Which is ironic, because after writing the last chapter, where I talked about all the ways that I take care of myself each day, I was feeling, well, quite good. And even, proud of myself.

Ah, but that's exactly when the guilt, and the fear flared up.

In my ancestral family script, which was laced with superstition, and low self-esteem, it wasn't safe or polite to talk about how good you feel or how happy or successful or healthy or attractive you are. Why?

On the surface, it's because nobody ever wanted to be accused of showing off.

But there are deeper explanations. By bragging, you tempt fate; who knows when your luck might run out, turning your otherwise happy life upside down. You might feel like you're on top of the world one day, but then you are almost certain to go into a slide. Then what? You end up so so embarrassed!

Superstitious thinking like this suggests that somehow you have to pay back for whatever good fortune you enjoy by facing a downslide.

But there is another explanation. You don't want to brag because you don't want to take the chance that you stir up jealousy in another person; if you do, you run the risk of invoking the "evil eye," known in Italian as "mal'occhio." In other words, someone seeing your bounty of success or riches might become so jealous they could intentionally OR unintentionally level a curse on you!

It's not like anyone sat me down and explained these "principles;" no one said to me, "Claudia you better be on guard for someone else's evil intentions."

But I am certainly the product of that miserably superstitious

(and paranoid) way of thinking. How often has my husband said to me that I should feel good about my achievements; that I should share my good feelings and do more to promote my accomplishments. When I do promote myself, I feel discomfort. I feel like I should apologize for feeling good about myself. And I do have anxiety that someone might be jealous of me. My instinct is to be apologetic, just to be on the safe side.

As I have been sitting here writing and thinking about mal'occhio, I have begun to feel fearful. So I decide to waste a little time by doing some internet "research." Specifically, I go to Google and call up "the evil eye," and lo and behold,

what I discover is that Italians are hardly the only ethnic group that grapples with fear of the evil eye.

According to an article in The Washington Post, "the evil eye symbol has been found through thousands of years of history across cultures, including in Latin America and parts of Asia. The symbol, most often depicted as four concentric circles in the shape of an eye, is used to ward off variations of evil intentions."

In Italy it's the "mal'occhio."

In Spain, it's called "el ojo maligno."

In Yiddish, people say "kinehora," which consists of the words “kein ayin hara,” -- that translates into "no evil eye."

In Greek, it's κακό μάτι or simply μάτι (mati), or "eye".

In Turkish and Arabic, it's "nazar," or sight.

In Chinese, the pictograph for the evil eye looks like this:

惡魔之眼

Wikipedia informs me that "The belief in the evil eye among humans has existed since prehistory, and amulets to protect against it have been found from dating to about 5,000 years ago."

Brittanica says: "Those most often accused of casting the evil eye include strangers, malformed individuals, childless women, and old women." Lovely.

And in another account I learn that the skill in being able to ward off the evil eye is one that is traditionally handed down from mother to daughter.

It's not entirely clear why the eye possesses so much power. But historically, even the Bible contains references to it: According to Luke 11:34, "Your eye is the lamp of your body. If your eye is healthy, your whole body is full of light; but if it is not healthy, your body is full of darkness."

OK, so now I am sitting here thinking, it's about time I write about this. It's about time I LEARN about this. Most important, it's time I figure out if I can FREE MYSELF FROM THIS FEAR!!!!! But how can I possibly expunge something from my psyche that has been embedded since ancient times?

Pardon me while I do some more reading.

**********

What most astonishes me is that I never realized how primal this belief system is/was. It is for all intents and purposes comparable to a Jungian archetype. I certainly saw evidence of this when we visited Greece, where the blue and white circular amulets that ostensibly protect you against the evil eye

appeared everywhere we went. And in southern Italy, the horn known as the "cornicello" -- it looks like a small chili -- hangs on a necklace around the necks of so many many Italians.

I pause now to write in Italian:

"Please help me not be afraid of the evil eye!"

"Per favore aiutami a non aver paura del malocchio!"

There are tests for the evil eye, and one of the most common involves olive oil. You fill a glass or a shallow dish with water. Then you place a drop of olive oil on the surface of the water.

If the oil floats, there is no evil eye. Ah but if the oil sinks, that constitutes evidence of the evil eye. Or, a variation: if you put two drops of oil on the water, and they remain separate, there is no evil eye. But if they merge, bam, bad luck is headed your way. Other rituals involve ordinary table salt.

When I write this down, the absolute silliness of it all hits me. Still, my mother used to tell me that her own mother, my Grandma Mish, subscribed to the superstition of mal'ochio. Apparently, Italians relied on the evil eye to explain all manner of bad fortune.

No one ever performed an evil eye test in my presence, and yet I do believe that the superstitions and fear have lived on in my family. And while there are superstitious rituals and prayers for removing the evil eye, I am not interested in any of them. I am interested in ridding myself of any lingering fear.

I turn to Google once more, asking, how do I release any fear I might have associated with the evil eye?

Wildly enough, I get a very good answer from Quora, which is a question and answer platform. Yes, the answer appears to come from a BOT!

Question: How can I live without fear of the evil eye?

"It's understandable to feel anxious about the possibility of others being jealous or wishing you harm, but it's important to remember that superstitions like the 'evil eye' have no scientific basis. It's unlikely that someone's negative thoughts or feelings can actually cause harm to you. If you find that you're still feeling anxious about this, there are some things you can do to help ease your worries. One thing you might try is focusing on positive affirmations and surrounding yourself with supportive people who genuinely want to see you succeed. It can also be helpful to practice mindfulness and meditation to help calm your mind and reduce stress. Ultimately, it's important to remember that you are in control of your own thoughts and feelings. Don't let superstitions or the actions of others dictate how you feel about your own successes and happiness."

Not bad for a bot. Not bad at all.

The bot offers more information and so, I accept. Here is what the bot -- called POE AI -- writes:

"Here are a few additional points to consider:

"Recognize the power of perception: Sometimes, our own beliefs and fears can influence how we interpret the actions of others. It's possible that what you perceive as jealousy or ill intentions may be a result of your own worries. Try to approach situations with a more balanced perspective and consider alternative explanations for people's behaviors.

"Focus on self-confidence: Building self-confidence and a strong sense of self-worth can help protect you from the opinions and actions of others. When you are secure in your own abilities and accomplishments, you are less likely to be affected by external negativity. Work on developing your skills, setting and achieving goals, and celebrating your own successes.

"Surround yourself with positivity: Surrounding yourself with supportive and positive people can make a significant difference in your overall well-being. Seek out friends, family members, or mentors who genuinely want to see you succeed and who can provide encouragement and constructive feedback. Positive influences can help counterbalance any negative energies you may encounter.

"Practice gratitude and mindfulness: Cultivating a practice of gratitude and mindfulness can help you stay grounded and focused on the present moment. By appreciating what you have and being mindful of your thoughts and emotions, you can reduce anxiety and worry about the opinions of others. Engaging in activities such as meditation, journaling, or deep breathing exercises can be beneficial.

"Protect your energy: Pay attention to your own energy levels and emotional well-being. If you feel drained or depleted after interactions with certain individuals, it may be helpful to set boundaries or distance yourself from them. Surround yourself with positivity and engage in activities that bring you joy and fulfillment.

"Remember, while it's natural to want the support and approval of others, it's important to prioritize your own happiness and well-being. By building your inner strength and focusing on positive aspects of your life, you can live without fear of the so-called "evil eye."

Hmmmm. POE makes good points. I guess after reading them, I feel less fearful about the "evil eye."

But I think I feel a little more fearful about the power of AI!