“Great things never came from comfort zones.”
Neil Strauss
After four weeks on an island off the coast of Sicilia, it is good to be home again in Torino. It was a wonderful vacation full of unforgettable experiences and stories to tell. One story I would like to share is about a grandmother (nonna) and a jellyfish, along with a few thoughts on fear and its ability to limit you from life’s pleasures.
So here’s the woman that inspired me last week–the one floating on the raft with the sailboats in the distance. After spending the afternoon with her, I affectionately now refer to her as “the grandma who doesn’t give a shit” or in Italian, “la nonna che non gliene frega un cazzo!”
The Italiano and I were fortunate to spend the entire month in the Aeolian Islands to discover places that I will never forget. We found such a place at a secluded beach on the island of Lipari, called Valle Muria. It is a beautiful valley that descends to a protected bay and beach. The locals visit this place as their own private paradise away from the summer tourist crowds, and boats anchor in the waters of the bay so their passengers can swim in cobalt blue waters.
Last week we were there, and I encountered the most delightful woman. She appeared to be spending the day with her daughter and grandchildren. Upon first observation of her, I immediately thought, “That is a proper nonna Siciliana!” She looked to be in her mid-sixties and she carried herself like Sophia Loren. She wore a two-piece swimsuit with a high-cut bikini, revealing in a full unapologetic way, a good portion of her assets. I was taken (not by her assets), but by her style, confidence and the kindness she exuded. Although she sat next to us, I didn’t make any effort to engage nonna in a conversation. I enjoyed quietly observing the interactions between her and her family.
At one point, when the sun was at its peak, nonna and I both decided to go into the water to escape the heat. As I approached the water, I spotted a good sized jellyfish just floating off the shore directly in nonna’s path. I immediately had this protective feeling for nonna, so I called over to her, “Mi scusi, c’è una medusa vicino a lei!” Excuse me, there is a jellyfish near you!
The nonna nodded in understanding and walked into the water, unperturbed by the warning. She fished around in the water with her feet in an attempt to find it among the splashing waves. I, on the other hand, chose the safest option and retreated to dry land while I waited for nonna to give me an all-clear sign.
I was sort of stung by a jellyfish in the Gulf of Mexico years ago. Well, it wasn’t actually a true sting, but a rogue floating tentacle that found itself wrapped around my hand. I remember the burning sensation and the welt that formed on my hand perfectly tracing where the tentacle landed. So of course, all of those memories came flooding back to me as I stood there watching nonna wade into the unknown danger.
Suddenly, I see nonna wince and curse under her breath. Apparently the jellyfish found her before she found it. She just kicked it out of the water, like a minor nuisance, then walked over and buried it under rocks so nobody else would happen upon the same circumstance. She then descended back into the water, as I stood on the sidelines watching, sweltering with heat and anxiety.
I couldn’t understand how she could shake off that sting, and just keep going. If you take out one jellyfish, what if forty more show up for the funeral? I kept my eye on her as I stood in toe-height water. She smiled at me, clearly understanding my fear. I shook my head in a way that dwarfed my courage against hers. Clearly, this nonna didn’t give a shit about the potential stings in life from random jellyfish.
I found the courage to step deeper into the water, only calmed by the clarity of the sea, and the belief I would spot something before it spotted me. I splashed some water on my body, and finally released a little bit of anxiety, perhaps too soon.
I see nonna waive down her grandson and say something to him in Italian. He proceeds to bring her an empty cup into the water. Apparently nonna found another jellyfish! Just like before, she casually fishes it out with the cup and shows it to him. He leaves the water, satisfies his child’s curiosity by poking it with a stick a few times, and then buries it under more rocks.
After this entire drama unfolds, what does fearless nonna do? She takes her raft, drops that sassy swimsuit bottom of hers into it, and casually floats out into the bay with God knows how many other jellyfish. That’s when I grabbed my iPhone to capture the moment, for it immediately made me contemplate why I couldn’t break through the fear of the sting and enjoy the cooling water with nonna.
I thought about the times in life when fear of an unpleasant sting prevented me from doing something enjoyable. The water looked spectacular and refreshing. I knew it would feel amazing on my skin, but the fearless alternative was too tempting. I wanted a guaranteed sting-free experience.
I wish I could tell you I conquered my fear of jellyfish and spent the rest of the time in the water floating around with the fearless Sicilian nonna, but I cannot. I did eventually go back into the water, inspired by nonna, but I was never able to relax and enjoy the swim.
Life has stings, and there’s no risk-free guarantee. I long to be like the fearless nonna Siciliana, to have already experienced enough of life’s stings to take what comes in stride. Here’s to all the fearless nonnas and nonnos that wait to be awakened in all of us, to be able to just float without fear and enjoy the moment.
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