When we first came to Italy, we did nothing.  Well, obviously we did things, but we had no jobs, no reason to get up in the morning, to leave the house (apart from the dog and buying food).  We had money.  It was the plan.  It was what we had decided to do.  Nothing.  Just be there.  See how life was.  See what would happen in the future.

It was great.  It was lovely to spend so much time together without the need to do something else, to HAVE to be somewhere, to HAVE to do something apart, to HAVE to answer to anyone.  We soaked up the atmosphere, breathed the air, thick with new and particularly Italian smells, heard the sounds, the gabbling in a language that meant we heard one, very long, word and watched the strangeness of it all.

Of course it wasn’t real.  Not real life, anyway.  And then, we started to meet people and speak to them.  And there was a big problem.  If you’ve seen the film ‘About A Boy’, you’ll understand.  But, I think, only if you’ve been in that situation can you understand.

When people ask you ‘And, what do you do?’ and you respond ‘Nothing’, there’s the problem.  How do they respond?  As a culture we are not able to respond to ‘Nothing’.  Everyone is supposed to do something.  Even ‘unemployed’ is something.  Only ‘Nothing’ is nothing.  And ‘Nothing’ is not allowed.  Not permitted.  ‘Nothing’ is lazy, aimless, as if you are useless, surplus to the requirements of this world.  Why are you here, if to do nothing?  Why do you go on, if nothing is your goal?

So, I became uncomfortable.  Not for myself, but for others.  Uncomfortable with their uncomfortableness.  They were like small children when they are being asked ‘Why did you do that?’ when they knew the answer they had was not an answer at all.  They fidgeted, looked away, had no words to say.  It made me feel guilty.  So, for a while, I used to add that I looked after some websites, did some volunteer work, etc., etc.

And then I stopped saying ‘Nothing’, but used to launch straight into the things I could think of that I did.  The things that made me a real person and not just some loafer.

And now?  Well now I have a job.  Now I go to work every Monday to Friday.  I work on Saturday on the websites (or in the evening, if it is important).  And now I say that I had to do something because I got bored.  And yes, that’s true, in some way but the reality is that, given the money, I would do the same again.  That time was wonderful.  Why should I have to do anything?  Why should I have a ‘five-year plan’ or even a ‘six-month’ plan?  We had a great time for nearly two years and I wish that had lasted forever.

But now I answer ‘I am a Project Manager’.  I am defined.  People can place me in the world, in their world.  I am real.  There are a string of questions that follow the statement.  They are happy.  I feel no guilt except, perhaps, when people say things like ‘Do you enjoy it?’, ‘How long will you stay there?’, ‘Have you given up your other stuff?’ or, in particular, ‘What’s the plan?’. ‘ I have to hide the truth, because the truth doesn’t make them happy.

My thanks to Corpodibacco, without whom I would not have remembered these thoughts.