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I moved to Italy for love...

day 47. 
Its cold.
Un-fashionably cold. Forget lace leggings, suede pumps, full skirts with cropped jackets, colourful scarves and matching berates, delicate gloves under cocktail rings, red lips and sleek eyeliner...
Its snow gear cold. Forget the female figure, and dont mention make-up. Its so wet and muggy that the Italian fashionistas have been forced into hiding, onto jet-planes somewhere warmer, or into triple quilted snuggy looking outfits that render them unrecognisable.
Maybe this trip to Germany on Sunday is just what I need. Its a regular freeze there, so I trust the locals are better equipped to fashionable handle the cold.
that, and to relocate my spiritual center.

Back in August my mum convinced me to meet her in Spain to do a training course in Breathwork/Rebirthing. It is something I have grown up with, but have always been afraid to explore. Plus what teenager is going to want to follow a spiritual path that involves lavender smelling Hippies coming up to you and asking in a slow monotone voice "How do you FEEEEEL?"
It seems that in general it takes a blow that knocks you completely down, before you start to ask questions about your existence and place in the world, and begin that inevitable search for God.
I guess the same can be said for myself. I was at the bottom for a long time, but chose to leave it to destiny - or my 25th birthday.
When me and my twin sister were born, our father had an Chinese astrology reading done for our life path. The astrologer predicted that we would come into our own upon our 25th year. Don't ask me why, but this is a truth I have chosen without any good reason to believe in.
When I was in Florence this June, I called my Mum, who had been living in America for the previous months. When she told me she was working again (She is past the age where society tells you to retire, and she has conquered illness and survived 9 children), and not just any work, but teaching breathwork and running seminars, which is something she has participated in for most of her adult life, whilst working as a full time nurse.
Im not quite sure what it did to me, but I sat in that tiny internet cafe phone booth and cried my little eyes out.
People have always pointed out what a special person my Mum is, and for the first time I saw it. She is no longer my Mumma, but my friend and someone whom I look up to.
Anne Marie

When the opportunity to go to Spain arised, it was as though the whole European trip was meant to happen so we could meet there.
Now 5 months later I have an opportunity to go to Germany to continue my training...

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