Hi angel! Today I’d love to tell you a story from my recent voyage to Sicily.
I traveled there as part of No Place Like Om, Europe’s biggest yoga tour, where I’m offering free yoga classes in 20 major cities to those who need them most.
You can read my journal entry from this lovely island below.
The video above, however, contains guided meditation (which I have not transcribed) as well as a live reading of the written journal!
You can also enjoy this transmission on…
August 25th, 2025
Catania, Sicily, Italy
If I hadn’t looked up from my phone, I probably wouldn’t have even realized I was on a boat. When my intercity train frictionlessly rolled onto the deck of a gargantuan ferry, routed from Italy’s mainland to the island of Sicily, I’d already been glued to my seat for seven hours. Admittedly, I thought it curious when my travel itinerary promised a direct train from Rome to Catania — no transfers — but I’d shrugged it off and assumed there’d be a tunnel involved; taking the miraculous feat of transportation for granted, I staked no curiosity in the mechanics of how on earth, let alone on sea, my vehicle would arrive in Sicily.
Thankfully, my gaze did drift upward from my handheld screen to the grimy, travel-worn window beside me. Stout Italian men in mustard yellow hard hats and neon green construction vests were ushering passengers off my coach and along the shimmering deck of their Mediterranean ship. Behind them, royal blue seawater lapped against the black sand shores of Villa San Giovanni, each dribbling wave winking sparkles of golden sunset rays right at me. The surprisingly serene scene, striking enough to shock a skip upon my heartbeat and a gasp into my breath, made me forget the black grease on my window, the dull ache in my sedentary tailbone, and the boredom of my monotonous journey. I sprang up and skipped to the train’s door.
As I sauntered up to the ship’s top deck, I couldn’t stop beaming. My train was on a boat! The marvel of engineering amplified my childlike wonder to a delighted shriek: it was the same awe I felt gawking out the window on my first ever flight, wishing for a Hess truck to appear within my Hannukah gift wrapping, and gingerly pedaling through my maiden voyage on a two-wheeler. It was a technology-devoted reverence that made the dauntingly infinite world seem a bit smaller, a smidge more navigable. I was giggling aloud at the human ingenuity!
The previous day, I’d been in Florence, hobbling over the same cobblestones that Da Vinci once graced. His mindset of Renaissance-era optimism was rubbing off on me: my imagination lit up with daydreams of floating train tracks, buoyant yet sturdy, modular and removable, that could further improve this geographical crossing in the far-off future. I visualized myself pulling a quill, its tip wet with black ink, from the pocket of my parachute pants and urgently sketching my theoretical invention on a tattered scroll, like a true 15th-century dreamer.
What would Leonardo say if he were on the boat with me? Would he indulge in fawning praises of the innovation, or would his timeless scrutiny perceive, in the abrasive motor of the boat’s engine and the rusted metal of its hull, the drawbacks of our mechanized world? Would he lament the loss of intellect, physicality, patience, and commitment necessary to sail across the Strait of Messina, as was customary during his era? Would he judge the passivity of passengers hardly looking up from their screens to enjoy the natural beauty around them? Would he, a master of painting realism, resent the accessibility of abused and misused phone cameras lazily snapping shots of the enchanted sea? Would he be proud of the future he saw?
I can’t help but feel neutered by our culture of convenience. Architected by an abhorrently self-interested oligarchy, every invention chiefly serves their consolidation of commerce and power. Whatever illusion of autonomy their Trojan horses seem to grant our populace, a little discernment always reveals underlying attacks demanding our sedation and submission. Our technology has been using us. I grieve angrily when I remember I’ll never be required to interpret a paper map, carry an analog watch, conduct research at a physical library, or grow my own food.
Yet, my inner child, unflinchingly left giddy by my miraculous boat ride, pleads with me to see an upside. He reminds me that, when I’m freed from busying myself with outdated tasks and thoughts, I’m empowered to explore uncharted frontiers. When survival is taken care of, creativity blossoms unabashedly, sprouting in the cracks insecurity left behind. All that’s required of me is a step away from the omnipresent temptation to self-soothe. Such exertion is a truly rebellious act, an offense towards our normalized, manufactured excess. Easy as numbness may be, it’s an honor to feel, to struggle, to improve.
May my species’ ingenuity simultaneously be my call to action and my permission to relax. May it inspire me to expand and expend, rather than outsource, my humanity. May I always gaze upon new inventions with one eye glistening in gratitude and the other scanning with skepticism. May our prideful progress forever bow at the feet of nature’s modest miracles.
I’d love to hear your thoughts :) please comment and reply to others!
Love,
Etai
