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The Direttissima

The first high speed train in Europe (1977) was Italian, linking Florence with Rome. It was named the “Direttissima,” to indicate its direct, non-stop connection between the two cities. With a top speed of 124 mph (200 kph), it was an incredible achievement. Today, the “Frecciarossa” (Red Arrow) high-speed train connects Turin, Milan, Bologna, Florence, Rome, Naples and Salerno on the north/south spine, reaching an impressive speed of 186 mph (300 kph). Of course, the fifty years between the inception and today have brought multiple iterations and many technological innovations.

While many train stations have been redesigned for high speed capability, others are still undergoing significant upgrades. Sometimes there’s a need for an intermediate station to be added to the system, resulting in even more engineering and architectural marvels. For example, in the valley between Milan and Bologna, 2 million potential riders were in need of better access. The midway point happened to be the relatively quiet town of Reggio Emilia. The proposal called for a high speed rail master plan, catapulting the historic city into the 21st century. Spanish architect/engineer, Santiago Calatrava’s idea for the “Mediopadana” (Central Valley) Station was to create 3 iconic access bridges spanning the nearby autostrada in addition to a massive new station—all to be completed between 2007-2013. It was a bold initiative.

All four projects

We decided to take a road-trip to see the now-famous bridges (known collectively as “Le Vele:” The Sails). From the Autostrada A1, we first spied the three white sculptural structures. One arched over the highway, while the other two appeared on each side like “sails” over the entrance ramps. Then suddenly, rippling like a wave along the highway, we passed the train station. Wow! We had imagined the structures farther apart, yet they were relatively close creating a unified design. The open, undulating steel structure of the station fluttered above the tilled fields—somewhat surreal, since the Italian countryside is so pastoral. 

As we stood on the train platform, taking photo after photo, we experienced the station exactly as it was designed: to accommodate both high-speed, non-stop trains and local access simultaneously. Just pulling into the station from the north, a Frecciarossa stopped to load and unload passengers. While it was lingering, a conductor walked from coach to coach, answering questions and directing passengers. The engineer in the front coach awaited the conductor’s practiced arm wave, accompanied by the sound of her shrill whistle to proceed.

Then suddenly, we  heard something quite unexpected. On the middle tracks, where there’s no access to passengers, a Frecciarossa on the dedicated high-speed rails, zoomed through at that incredible speed of 186 mph. No doubt it was one of the trains with a non-stop run from Milan to Bologna. It sounded like a jet doing a low level fly-by, and lasted only seconds. There was no hesitation, no slowing through the station. We barely caught a glimpse before it was gone.

Sure, the architecture and engineering feats are breathtaking, but what struck both of us was the idea of speed. Those high velocity trains are all about accessing the future, and it’s definitely moving fast—currently at nearly 200 mph. However, the fancy technology doesn’t turn its back on the significant history held within ancient Italia. The residents of Emilia Romagna have fully embraced the inventive “Mediopadana Stazione” by Calatrava, which speaks to the capacity for both deep roots and powerful wings—that’s humanity at its best.

Photo Gallery

Video – Frecciarossa Departure

Twice normal departure speed—not even close to 186 mph

Video – Frecciarossa Non-Stop

You can watch an AV (Alta Velocità) train pass through the restricted inner two tracks reserved for non-stop traffic at the operational speed of 186 mph (300 kph) on YouTube.

Credits

Gallery photos:
by authors
Story photos and Video:
Inaugural train on the Direttissimo Line (1977) – Source: Evolutio
Aerial view of all four projects – Source: Andrea Delbo – Getty Images
Speeding Frecciarossa photo created by Gemini
YouTube video – Channel: alberto davoli trains

 

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A “sense of place” is really important for us. The convergence of varied elements come together to create something beyond the mere collection of parts—something ineffable. Although the  space may be difficult to describe, we take note of various aspects that resonate with us. It’s a unique sensation for each individual. The best we can do is simply name the phenomenon. In this case it’s “table number four” at the restaurant Piatti & Fagotti, in downtown San Domenico.

Table Number Four

A  small table for two just inside the front door beckons, with an alluring brew of intimate, unique, quaint, antique, and special ambiance with a dash of curious intrigue going on around that little vestibule of space. For us it’s irresistable. Originally, our window-on-the-world was another door, complete with a stone threshold of two steps up from the narrow sidewalk. Those former steps have been re-purposed as terraced shelves for terra cotta pots holding fluffy green plants—gently reminding passersby that this is “not a door anymore.”

We called ahead to make sure that our favorite table was available. It was not. Someone else with similar tastes had already nabbed it. We’re not surprised since it’s a really sweet spot. Reluctantly, we accepted the promise to be in the vicinity. Perhaps the ambiance of the open-aired table would drift a few feet to include us. But, to our surprise, the couple who had reserved the number 4, relinquished their hold at the last minute. Apparently there was just a little too much Tuscan sun streaming (momentarily) through the window. Lucky us!

Housed in an ancient convent, the restaurant has become a social hub in San Domenico, just mid-way up the hill between Florence and Fiesole, Italy. Across the street is a renowned school of music where students from around the world arrive to study. We watch a steady stream of musicians step off the bus number 7 and walk the remaining yards to the school. They are like bees drawn to the honey comb, buzzing with excitement. On their backs and in their hands, they carry various instruments. This delightful parade of musicians is part and parcel to the appeal of table number four.

Notes of Recognition

The name of the restaurant, Piatti e Fagotti is in honor of the symbiotic relationship between the musicians and great Tuscan fare. They go together: the plates (piatti) for the restaurant, and the carrying bags and cases (fagotti) for the instrumentalists. The clever logo for the restaurant is two musical notes—one rendered as a stylized ladle. The logo perfectly captures, in the name, the harmony between the two symbiotic entities. It whimsically “notes” or honors the rigors of musical studies, while simultaneously invites all passersby to share a hearty, comforting meal.

Tuscany brims with such small wonders. They’re just around the corner or beyond the next bend in the road. They’re uttered in a friendly greeting or generously served up warm to table number four.

Addendum

Here’s another view of “Table Number Four” from the outside/streetside, showing the repurposed steps with plants. Today we lunched al fresco, perched within a four-feet wide dining platform. Note: that’s a sidewalk between the rail and the building.

To show the irresistible quirkiness of this place, following is the olive grove, across the narrow street, which is owned by the school of music—doubling as an outdoor dining room. This further illustrates the close relationship between the school and the restaurant. The school actually installed a short wood gate in their fence so customers at the Botega can climb the wall with lunch in hand to dine in the shade of the olive trees—simply beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I did it. Boldly, I declared what I needed from the friendship.

She stopped by for an impromptu visit, full of complaints and criticisms, and I said, “Enough! I don’t want to talk about other people or problems. I want to talk about the lack of balance and the direction of our relationship.” She was shocked and had no response. Her comfort seemed to be in sharing woe.

Clarity

Now, I grieve the loss of a friendship. Once we were sisters of common thought and spirit. Now, the energy from what was once a compelling friendship depletes me. The conversations have become one-sided. I am only here for disposable comments rather than as a friend, sharing ideas. Complaints are more likely than meaningful exchange. The affinity has shifted, the positive magnetism has become negative, and I feel myself pushing away.

We parted ways after our talk that day. Searching for reciprocal relationships, I must pursue friendships that are healthy, positive and inspiring. I must be deliberate and intentional in all my actions, including the creation of new friendships and the careful rebuilding or dismantling of existing ones.

Quote

Richard Moss, in his book, The Black Butterfly, states: “Thus, we fall into periods of unknowing and uncertainty—dark nights—only to rediscover our old values and relationships, but at a new level of meaning and consecration. This is a process of dissolution, of death and rebirth. It seems wrong, needlessly painful; it is not what we intended. Yet it is this very process that is empowering us.”

Related Musical Story – Good Intentions

CREDITS

Featured Image generated by the authors and Gemini AI
Music – Good Intentions is from the album Hungry Again by C&E

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Grace and forgiveness.

Emerson has recently come to realize that in this lifetime he wants to focus on forgiveness, for both himself and others. Basically, that means releasing blame and resentment by choosing the path of forgiveness as the ultimate solution.  Although the idea seems rather simple, it’s not so easy in practice. At this point in his life, he feels that it’s the perfect time to look deeper within and try to make an incremental shift into living more gracefully.

The idea of embracing forgiveness is certainly not new for him. In fact, he broached the subject in his mid-forties. He felt that various elements of his life  were out of balance. Ambitions needed to be tamed, along with his insistence that he, alone, could make things happen. He was fully engaged with his ego. He lacked vulnerability. But he needed a path forward to change his ingrained persona and habits. His naïveté convinced him that he simply needed to push this new agenda along, so he never imagined the process could be decades in the unfolding. But also in naïveté, he somehow intuited the importance of grace and forgiveness, and that at least became a place to begin.

Instrument of change

In times of turmoil or uncertainty, playing guitar was his way to sort things out.  Years ago, he began writing a song he called Gracefully. However, like many other songs, it remained unfinished. Why? Well, he excused the reluctance to complete the song by being just too busy “getting ahead.” But unfinished or unresolved issues have a way of simply going dormant, rather than going away. When a twinge of dissatisfaction peaked again, that unfinished song sprang to life to create another opportunity to take action, which might also result in personal change.

The unintended gift

Then, one day Em came across a sweater that was left behind by our college-bound son, Aaron. Em put on the sweater as a gesture of sentimental closeness and ended up wearing it nearly every day. He felt graced and strengthened by Aaron whenever he wore it and imagined that it was left behind just for him.

So we had the perfect creative storm: an unfinished song and a magical sweater. To further things along, Cheryl took up the challenge to complete the lyrics. That was the impetus that was needed. The song was soon finished and eventually recorded in 2003. Together, we wrote it for two voices in harmony instead of one, which was another indication that a change was in the air.

Fast forward twenty plus years, and the topic of Forgiveness arrived front and center in Em’s awareness once again. He was no longer interested in the spotlight or in following ambitions. Instead, he imagined himself quietly unseen, leaping for joy with his renewed enthusiasm for grace and forgiveness.

Recently he revisited the completed song to re-energize and re-commit to change, with a more mature perspective and a strong desire to make real progress—hopeful that he’ll eventually catch on and catch up.

Even as we’re often unknowingly graced by others, we may also acknowledge self-grace. Our sincere efforts and persistent dedication are rewards in themselves. Surely, living gracefully is a very particular feeling of being buoyant, floating both within ourselves and above the earthly strife, no matter what the circumstances are.

“Quietly and sometimes unknowingly, we give each other strength beyond measure”—excerpted from the book, Time to Partner.

Music – Gracefully

 

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Well, that’s the “Real McCoy!” That spoken phrase usually means that something is either the “genuine article” or the “real thing,” or the “very best”. Like many old sayings, we may use them, but don’t know the origin of the phrase. Given that nobody really knows, we found four plausible theories on this particular idiom ranging from Scottish whisky, industrial innovation, boxing rings, and Prohibition-era rum.

We thought it would be fun to offer a fifth explanation, that we call, Pepino is the real McCoy.

In 1962 there was a classic TV series, “The Real McCoys” about a multi-generational family that migrated to California from the hills of West Virginia. Rather than being similar to the infamous feuding Hatfield and McCoy families (supposedly from the same Appalachian locale) this family chose to be different. They were genuinely good people, doing their best to model inspiring behavior. They lived up to the best qualities that the name “McCoy” now implies.

Pepino’s barn abode

The California McCoys weren’t perfect by any means, but they were honest and hard-working folks, respected by all. They even took on an immigrant named Pepino who was the live-in hired hand on the farm. His living quarters were located in a room built into the farm’s barn, often considered the “bunk house.” When the family was faced with a challenge, Pepino was often the one they turned to for support and solutions. We considered him to be part of the McCoy family, and an integral character in the show.

Pepino was a hard worker, good friend and a team player who was determined to eventually become an American citizen. The story of his strong contribution and personal growth was played out in the many episodes. He loved and respected his adopted family so much, that he wanted to officially change his last name from Garcia to McCoy. And he eventually did just that.

For us, Pepino symbolizes a brave individual, the best of the best, on his path from immigrant to hired hand, to extended family member, and finally becoming a US citizen.

Following is the episode where Grandpa Amos first refers to Pepino as the “Real McCoy.” It’s a very funny episode, yet also quite touching—best to watch in its entirety (If time is short, start at about the 19:00 point.) True to the style of the times in 1962, the show appears dated now. But the values portrayed are timeless and genuinely heartfelt.

Credits and Notes

Video: “ The Real McCoys – Pepino McCoy” courtesy of YouTube and Greg Tate.

Image of Tony Martinez – Pepino, from the “Real McCoys” courtesy of people.com

Tony Martinez (Pepino Garcia), passed away on September 16, 2002, at the age of 82. While Pepino was his most famous television role, he was also a very accomplished musician and stage actor. He notably played Sancho Panza in over 2,200 performances of the musical Man of La Mancha across various tours and Broadway runs. He was the first Latin American actor to perform in the western genre (sourced from “Tony Martinez – Actor,” Wikipedia).

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Espresso. Simple. Rich. Satisfying. But how and why? We accepted the invitation to delve into the mystery.

We typically begin our day in a coffee bar—specifically, Pasticceria Lorenzo in the little town of Pian di Mugnone,Italy, just north of Florence. The coffee is quick and hot, and balances perfectly with a fresh pastry. When we’re in San Diego, we have a similar routine, however, the pace for breakfast is vastly different. In Italy, we drive 20 minutes to enjoy a 10 minute “breakfast.” In California, we walk for 10 minutes and stay for an hour on our devices. It’s a funny contrast, since Italy is known for “la dolce vita,” which usually means lingering and savoring.

In either place the coffee is great, but we started noticing something: the large espresso machine that coffee bars use makes a big difference in the taste and quality of the drink. Hmmm. Who made the machine, we wondered. Frequently, the answer to that question is: La Marzocco. So we decided to do a bit of research to locate the source of La Marzocco, since we knew it was a Florentine company. We struck gold!

An Awesome Machine

Just outside of Florence, in the tiny village of Pian di San Bartolo is a barista’s dream, the Accademia del Caffè Espresso. Housed in the original manufacturing building is a beautiful sunlit space with a designer coffee bar and areas to relax and mingle. But rather than simply the former factory, The Accademia has been transformed into an impressive contemporary museum about coffee! There are incredible displays with either guided or self-directed tours; also immersive tours and education focused on the history and science of espresso are available. Step up to the coffee bar where the barista awaits your order. They are proudly standing behind a gleaming espresso machine with the familiar script, La Marzocco adorning the front. Request an espresso. Then enjoy the magic.

A few sips later, we entered the exhibit space. We had the pleasure of sharing our experience with our own expert guide—Marta, the barista at Caffé Lorenzo. She shared her vast knowledge of coffee with us as we strolled through the exhibits. Displays were hands-on, so we also had a few laughs along the way.

Here’s a little La Marzocco background info: In 1927, the Bambi brothers invented the first ever, original, hand-made espresso machine called the Fiorenza. From that point on they refined and innovated their machines, always taking great satisfaction that each espresso machine was hand-built. Today, the machines are still completely handcrafted in their state-of-the-art manufacturing facility in Scarperia, farther afield from Florence. La Marzocco  is still recognized around the world for its excellence.

Caffè Lorenzo

When we walk into Caffè Lorenzo, Marta makes eye-contact with us in the mirror that spans the length of the machine. Immediately, she begins creating our “usual” coffees. Within seconds, she spins around, places a tiny spoon onto the saucer beside the coffee and places the fresh coffee on the counter before us. It is truly an orchestration. While we’re blissfully sipping our drinks and enjoying a few short and sweet conversations with the regulars, we know that there are so many elements that come into play to make that great cup of coffee. There truly is magic behind the coffee curtain. To begin with, the secrets are hidden in the three major components: la positzione (in this case, Florence); la macchina (the espresso machine); and la barista (the expert). Ahhhh Italia!

Simply Beautiful

One might have the best equipment and still not make the best espresso. That’s where the barista comes in. Operating these machines is not simply pushing a button. Instead, they require a high level of attention and manual precision. To pull a truly excellent shot, the barista must simultaneously master a number of variables. To dig a little deeper, we thought it would be fun to ask Gemini AI for the aspects of operation that make an espresso truly remarkable. Following is our interpretation of AI’s response:

Grind: the Goldilocks dilemma—not too coarse and not too fine.

Dose: They must have the exact weight of dry coffee grounds—within 0.1 grams to ensure consistency.

Distribution: Grounds must be leveled evenly or the flavor is lost.

Tamp: Firm, level pressure (usually around 30 lbs) to compress the grounds to the right density.

Water Temperature: Just the right amount of heat will bring out the best qualities of the coffee used. Only half of a degree can make an appreciable difference.

Ratio: How much liquid espresso should end up in the cup for the best taste, the ratio of grounds to water is the professional’s decision.

Timing: Monitoring the “shot time,” not too fast and not too slow—usually between 25 to 32 seconds.

Pressure: Variable adjustments in the water pressure can bring out the best—a truly incredible art-form, ventured into by only the perfectionist.

Aeration, Texturing: If the drink involves milk, controlling the steam wand properly is a critical factor.

If you are ever in Florence and want a delightful coffee experience, check out the Accademia in nearby Pian di San Bartolo. The photo gallery below will provide a small glimpse into what you will find upon your arrival.

Photo Gallery

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When people think of Italy, they often conjure up an image of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday. There they were, zipping through the streets of Roma on . . . what else, but a Vespa. One of those classic, sculptural little motorini, motor-scooters that are synonymous with the very word, Italy.

But what is a Vespa, besides a well known brand? What does the word mean anyway? Is there a Mr. Vespa somewhere? No. Vespa actually means wasp. The classic little scooter took its name from the sound that it makes: that of a frantic buzzing wasp.

Italian Classic

Interesting. Right? Well, if you’ve ever been waiting at the traffic light to enter Piazza Donatello when the red goes to green, you’d swear that you’d just stumbled into a hornet’s nest. The surrounding buzz is thunderous.

Ever had a wasp circle your head? The sound is unmistakable. It’s sort of a medium-low drone—more than a bit menacing, causing me to instinctively duck under cover or clear the path, or maybe I should say the airspace. I typically give a wasp all the clearance it needs, so we can comfortably avoid each other. But lately, I’ve noticed something troubling. Despite my best efforts to evade them, they seem to be getting closer—like into our bedroom—regularly. By regularly, I mean daily. They do a few swooping circles and then disappear. BUT, we can still hear them, even if we can’t see them. Then the sound becomes a little different, sort of like they’re agitated. Maybe more like a muffled dentist’s drill. So, we felt compelled to track them down.

It seems that the wall between the sliding doors of the bathroom and closet is hollow, and they’ve discovered the space. So, in they fly, disappearing near the bathroom door and begin that frantic buzzing. It actually sounds like they’re building something. Apartments? A home away from home? Inside our hollow wall.

Last week I slid the closet door closed only to find 4-5 of those dreadful little mud cylinders that indicate wasps have set up housekeeping. In a reflexive swoop, I dashed them to the floor. They were dry, brittle structures that crumbled upon impact. Good, I thought . . . gone. Then, only moments later as I stood in the closet, in flew Ms. Wasp, carry something. What? What do they carry? It looked like the abdominal section from another wasp. Are parts interchangeable? Had I inadvertently happened upon Dr. Frankenvespa at work? And where was she going with that insect part? I casually observed her from a safe distance, pretending to sort my socks. She hovered just above the hangers and then dropped out of sight, right into one of Em’s collared shirts. What? Why? I imagined an already well established wasp colony along his shoulder seam. Quickly, I grabbed the shirt and shook it vigorously. Nothing happened. Nothing came flying out. Where did she go? I searched for a few minutes and then gave up. She had once again mysteriously disappeared without a trace.

Vespa Colony in Door

I shook my head and went on about my day. Hmmm. Where’s my aqua sweater? Oh yeah, I left it in the car. I hummed a little tune as I sashayed to the car where I spied my sweater through the back window. I opened the door. And there, to my surprise, was a cluster of wasp houses—inside the door, along the frame, just beside the black rubber strip. What? How? I couldn’t say. But the bigger question was WHY? What on earth would prompt a wasp to claim the space just beneath a rubber gasket inside a car door? Did she imagine her wasp-lings on meaningful road trips?

Too Cool!

My recent disturbing encounters with the whole buzzing vespa family had somewhat tarnished my romantic notion of those beautiful little motorini, cobblestone streets and Italian fountains. Then this morning, we received an email photo from a friend, taken at a sidewalk cafe in LA. His legs were outstretched, as he casually relaxed at a street-side coffee bar. On his feet? Red Ferragamo loafers which made me smile. And in the background? A classic mint green Vespa scooter!  I was instantly awash with the iconic meaning of the word Vespa and the romantic notions it conveys. Ah, sweet Italia!

Reposted from 2011

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We spend our entire lives “Reaching,” for one thing or another.

We reach for the alarm clock to turn it off or maybe hit the snooze button for 9 more minutes of sleep. We reach for a jar on the top shelf, only to find it beyond our grasp. Standing on tiptoes, we stretch, desperately trying to nudge the jar just a bit closer. We’re constantly reaching just a little more.

We reach for that long sought-after goal. We reach the end of our rope. We even reach for the stars. Babies instinctively reach out for the warm touch of security. And finally, when all is said and done, we reach the end of this lifetime.

Our understanding is that success is in the “grasping.” Whatever we seek must be captured—safe and secure within our hands. But should we come up “empty-handed,” we imagine that something has tragically slipped away from us.

Yet we know that “grasping” and “holding” are only illusions. It’s not possible to “hold onto” anything. Instead, we see that life happens mainly through the act of Reaching. When we focus on the reaching, we begin to understand that the desire, the aspiration itself animates life.

This idea was expressed by great philosophers. Marcus Aurelius said: “It does not matter what you bear, but how you bear it.” This suggests attitude and intention is far more important than the results. Centuries later, Mahatma Gandhi echoed a similar thought: “Whatever you do in life will be insignificant , but it is important that you do it . . .”

Without regret, our intention is to energetically reach and reach and reach, until one day, we will finally grasp a humble truth—that a life well-lived exists only in each moment of striving, in “reaching,” and that in itself is the prize.

Music – Reach

 

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Cheryl woke up this morning with a song repeating in her head. As usual, she sings the song aloud. From that point, the song moves into both our heads, and we find ourselves humming, singing, or whistling the tune all day—much like a an advertising jingle or chorus of a pop tune.

Today’s song was “Sixteen Tons” by Tennessee Ernie Ford. It became his signature hit, inspired by the travails of real-life coal miners in Kentucky. Although the song was written by Merle Travis in 1947, it didn’t become popular until Tennessee Ernie’s deep-voiced version of 1956.

Mining family – 1950s

Despite the age of the song, we find the story relevant today, some 70 years later. The tale is about the plight of the working man, becoming dependent on the “company-owned store” to support their families. Although it was a bargain struck out of necessity, it was a desperately sad realization that survival depended on humbly accepting terms that someone else offered, an intentional indebtedness to those in power.

We often recite a line from The Declaration of Independence, “. . . that all men are created equal . . . endowed by their Creator. . . ” Alas, we are still working on that idea/ideal. But hey, it’s only been 250 years. It takes some time.

Following is Ernie Ford’s version of his signature song. It’s worth a listen. What comes through is his honest sympathy for those working people who simply want to claim their independence, while taking responsibility.

Although few, if any of us would say: “I owe my soul to the company store,” that line becomes the heartbreaking message of the song. The absolute dread that Ford delivers in the line,”I owe my soul,” which is repeated 4 times, underscores the solemnity of the message.  Ernie Ford delivers the phrase as if he could cry. Then, finally (in the video version) he looks up, pleading, while increasing the volume of his booming voice, seeking relief. When he glances downward at the end of the song, he humbly accepts his plight, as though he becomes the very downtrodden worker he sings about.

What a  storyteller.

Lyrics

Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man’s made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that’s weak and a back that’s strong
You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter, don’t you call me, ’cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store
I was born one mornin’ when the sun didn’t shine
I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine
I loaded sixteen tons of number 9 coal
And the straw boss said, “Well a-bless my soul!”
You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter, don’t you call me, ’cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store
I was born one mornin’, it was drizzlin’ rain
Fightin’ and trouble are my middle name
I was raised in the canebrake by an old mama lion
Can’t no high-toned woman make me walk the line
You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter, don’t you call me, ’cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store
If you see me comin’ better step aside
A lot of men didn’t, a lot of men died
One fist of iron, the other of steel
If the right one don’t getcha, then the left one will
You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter, don’t you call me, ’cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store
————————————————

Source: Musixmatch -YouTube
Songwriter: Merle Travis
Sixteen Tons lyrics © Unichappell Music Inc.,
      Campbell Connelly And Co. Ltd., Merle’s Girls Music.
Elvis Presley Music Inc.
Images – Canva AI

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Become the Observer. See the world, your world, through the eyes of a Witness.

Observe intently

We are given a new opportunity, a new perspective, when we free ourselves from the trappings of the mind. Without subjective thoughts, steeped in  trauma, drama, emotion and earthly logic, we can become a neutral bystander—participating in whatever activity is at hand, but simultaneously watching ourselves in the context of life events. We become free to acknowledge a hushed voice—perhaps the Soul, longing to be heard. We may sense subtle flutters of Inner Wisdom, Tiny Feathers drifting gently into consciousness. Earthly burdens of expectations release and detach. Relaxation settles over us. Simultaneously we feel an exhilarating freedom.

LaVerna Monastery

Sacred sounds, ageless chants have been used for centuries to shift focus from the ordinary, the everyday into a sense of awe and wonder. Spiritual beings throughout history have denied the corporeal world in search of deeper faith, wisdom and meaning. There have been curious stories about the presence of a brilliant white light that people seem to encounter when death approaches. We’ve watched cloaked monks process in a rhythmic sway, singing deep, resonating sounds that fill spacious stone cathedrals with a life-changing reverberation.

Floating and Swirling

Those wordless tones—the sacred sound of Om (AUM—ah-oo-mm), emanating from the “heart space” invoke spirit. To be “inspired” means to be infused with spirit. Breathe in, breathe out. The entire body becomes transformed. This is our hope—to soar, to invite momentary glimpses of Tiny Feathers, Inner Wisdom, that enticingly float and swirl just beyond everyday awareness.

Music – Tiny Feathers

Lyrics

Floating weightlessly behind my eyelids

Drifting ever-slowly toward my beating heart

Tiny feathers of a fleeting thought

Slipping calmly into rhythmic breathing

Matching beat for beat with my sacred heart

 

Floating weightlessly behind my eyelids

Drifting ever-slowly toward my beating heart

Tiny feathers, soft hints

What my Soul dares to dream

Dedication

This story and music are dedicated to Those who continually nudge us further and further into our sacred heart space

Credits

From album – Hold to the Heart
Track released – June 1, 2022
Cheryl Martlage – Lyrics, Vocals and Production
Emerson Martlage – Music, Vocals and Production
Feather Image – Custom Generated by Gemini AI

Related Stories and Music

Eye Witness

We were reading a number of books about consciousness, among them were several by Ken Wilbur: “Boomeritis,” and “A Brief History of Everything,” as well as another book called “What Really Matters.” We also read (after having seen the movie) “What the Bleep Do We Know,” which led us to discover “Ramtha: the White Book” . . .

Each Cell

Following a visit to Madonna del Sasso Monastery near Santa Brigida, in Tuscany, we wrote this song. We had walked for about an hour up the steep, rocky trail between the monastery and town to reach that sacred site with unbelievable views into the Val d’Inferno. We could see our studio off in the distance, and the Castle Trebbio, down below . . .