This summer, I spent five weeks in Rome, Italy studying communications and philosophy. Having never traveled to Europe before, I had no clue what to expect. And, with an overly-anxious and worrywart personality, I was terrified. Naturally, I had the time of my life. It seems everyone does when they go abroad. But for me, my study abroad experience wasn't just dope or fun, it was healing. Through my study abroad experiences, I learned to conquer my anxieties and accept my smallness. This is how my journey to the top of Capri changed my entire outlook on life:
I'd never been to Europe.
And, either I was the only one shameless enough to admit it or the 80 other students on my program had been there before.
I had been to Costa Rica and The Bahamas, but those were family vacations.
This was five weeks in Rome, a foreign city with an even more foreign language. And despite having enrolled in two classes, I discovered more from my travels than from my oversized textbook.
It all happened in Capri, Italy.
Monte Solaro is the highest point on the island of Capri, soaring 589 meters above sea level. It's mesmerizing panorama left me speechless, stunned by a high-definition horizon.
I opened my mouth to speak but a gust of wind demanded I keep my lips sealed.
I began, then, to think with my eyes.
In the distance were the mountains of Calabria. Though faded, their peaks remained sharp and made known.
Bright yellow Bloom flowers giggled beneath my feet.
The white wake of a passing boat surrendered to the irrefutable blue sea.
People were crying next to me.
"It's impossible for something this beautiful to exist without God's help in its creation," exhaled a young millennial.
I disagreed. I thought the opposite.
Something this beautiful exists because the world is unforgiving. Mountains move and islands are created. Volcanoes erupt and places become uninhabitable.
On top of Monte Solaro, I found comfort in my smallness. I thanked the ceaselessness of Mother Nature.
For once, I abandoned my mundane anxieties. I pledged to move forward with the pace and autonomy of a distant mountain.
Though I am little, I can stand my ground.
My being is as large as Earth.
A 12-minute chairlift ride took me down the mountain. The distant mountains of Calabria disappeared within two.
As I made my descent, I passed by those making their way to the top.
They were Italian. They were Chinese. They were American.
They were oblivious to what was waiting above.
I smiled and waved at friendly faces, but obeyed the gusts of wind; my lips were sealed.
I felt unprepared to return to the hustle and bustle of Capri, let alone the chaos of Rome.
But 12 minutes had passed and I was forced out of my trance. I said hello to familiar faces and rejoined recently made friends.
Everyone agreed. That was the coolest thing we had done so far. Though for me, it was the most monumental thing I had done in my life.
Monte Solaro took me to the edge of the world and crushed my anxieties like ants.
Now, all of them are microscopic.
