I am currently sitting in a spot that has quickly become one of my favorites.

Aside from the occasional vroom of a motorbike, a car passing by or a group of visitors making their way up the steps,

It is a quiet and peaceful place. 

My back leans against what I can only imagine is an ancient pillar and my bum sits flush against a stone brick floor where I am certain hundreds of thousands have found themselves before.

The best part about this scene is what my eyes can see. 

Directly in front of me, another pillar is found 

It is ornately decorated with carved flowers and bows 

This alone leaves my mind in wonder.

The attention to detail is impeccable.

I think to myself, 

Wow, they just do not do it like that anymore.

My head sweeps to the right and what is found could only be described as captivating.

A duomo so grand, so statured, so profound.

From my vantage point, it seems to stretch its way up to the tip top of the sky.

Wow.

I see pillars and arches 

Plants that reach upwards and delicately coil back.

Stars and flowers

Inscriptions 

Faces and bodies 

Shells and shields 

Perfectly framed windows and grand, green wooden doors.

I see a cross and a clock

Bells that I eagerly anticipate to be rung

Some things are so high up there that I cannot even make out what they are.

I see clouds gently gliding by in the background, even further solidifying this perfectly picturesque scene.

I see gray-colored stairs speckled with brown, black and white 

I see cracks throughout their foundation 

I see green and brown colored weeds peeking themselves through.

I see a crown of flowers 

The words MADRE written above the open door

I see tourists who have paid to climb up to the top of the bell tower who stick their heads over the railing above and wave aggressively as they yell, “Hello!” to their friends below who refrained from climbing the 250 steps.  

I see a family step out of the church doors 

The young girl holds her bible in hand

They take a moment to wander at the view of Modica which lies upon the eyes as one exits the church. 

They snap a photo and the people who I assume are the parents share a kiss 

My heart softens 

A sign of love shared between two for their littles to see 

How precious. 

I see couples stretch their arms long and far, scanning up and down as they aim to capture the whole of the facade behind them in their selfie. 

I sit and I look 

My eyes scan and then stare 

Scan and then stare 

Scan and then stare.

I say to myself again, 

Wow.

There is so much to see.

As my head continues its rotation to the right, green trees line the descent of the stairs and I see a balcony with two windows whose shutters are pushed out. 

Baskets of plants hang on the railing

A cactus sticks up in the center

A few chairs and three red ceramic statues 

A typical depiction of Sicily.

I think to myself, what an incredible place that would be to stay for a while.  

Several visitors make their way up and down the stairs 

I observe their interactions. 

Some stop for selfies 

Pose for photos smiling towards a loved one below 

Some stop for a few moments and look up 

Some continue with their head down toward the stairs as they ascend towards the entrance doors.  

I continue to sit here, deeply content and increasingly amazed.  

If only walls could speak, right?

It is hard to believe the meticulous attention to detail 

The intricate thoughtfulness that would have gone into planning each and every millimeter of this place. 

It is incredible.  

As I am writing, a man from Holland approaches me and asks if the church is open. 

I told him that they were closed for lunch but should open back up around 3:00. 

He said,  “It is beautiful.”

“I know, I like to just sit here and take it all in.”  

He said, “It is nearly impossible to do, isn't it? This whole place is like a walking museum.”  

“Exactly,” I said. 

My mind lingers on the thought that not many things are made or carried out in such profound ways anymore.  

I think about what a shame that is.  

This church was reopened to the public in 1738 after the original structure suffered damage from various earthquakes.

I am sitting here today in October of 2024 marveling at it as if it were new.  

If my eyes release stare, I feel a tug inside that says,

Oh no! What did I miss? I must look back! 

As if I am a child in a candy store experiencing that intense longing to eat each and every colorful piece until I have a sugar high that will last for days.  

Must have more.  

Must see more.  

Must take it in. 

Recently, I have been thinking about the fact that we all have options.  

The architects of this Duomo had the option to pay as close attention to the details as they did - or to not.  

Visitors have the option to stand and stare at the decoration or to glance momentarily and pass by.  

Communities have the option to take care of their precious dwellings such as this or to allow them to dwindle with time.  

Moreover,  we each have options in our day-to-day lives. 

We have options regarding how we spend our time.  

We have options regarding what we consume along the way.

We have options regarding what we choose to look at through our gaze. 

We choose whether we will smile and say hello to those whom we pass by or if we will hold tunnel vision and lock eyes only on the destination to which we stride. 

We have the option as to whether we seek the opportunity to engage with those around us in the mundane moments of life or if we will stand in solitude with ourselves, headphones in, phones scrolled.  

Whether we will be present throughout our existence or pay attention only to the people, places or things that have been pinpointed as worthy along the way.

Options.  

To recognize them

To be aware of them

To take hold of them throughout our days.

As I sit here in a spot that I intend to continue to frequent for the duration of my time in this place, 

I think about the fact that I hope to proceed with intention when it comes to the options that are presented to me.  

To take hold of the opportunities that present themselves in my life.  

I think about how I hope to be able to discern what my options are,

One from the next,

And that I am able to grasp the options that feel aligned with my heart. 

As the architects of this Duomo paid meticulous attention to detail to ensure that it stands miraculous even after centuries have passed by,

May we carefully choose which routes we take 

May we be aware of how intentional we are

May we live a life filled with intricate thoughtfulness about where we lay our next steps

And may we be meticulous in stepping forth into the options that are presented to our hearts.

The Duomo, Duomo Di San Giorgio in Modica, Sicily.

The pillar, third from the base of the stairs on the left.

The spot, a profound location that I hope one day your eyes can lay rest.

I am currently sitting in a spot that has quickly become one of my favorites.

Aside from the occasional vroom of a motorbike, a car passing by or a group of visitors making their way up the steps,

It is a quiet and peaceful place. 

My back leans against what I can only imagine is an ancient pillar and my bum sits flush against a stone brick floor where I am certain hundreds of thousands have found themselves before.

The best part about this scene is what my eyes can see. 

Directly in front of me, another pillar is found 

It is ornately decorated with carved flowers and bows 

This alone leaves my mind in wonder.

The attention to detail is impeccable.

I think to myself, 

Wow, they just do not do it like that anymore.

My head sweeps to the right and what is found could only be described as captivating.

A duomo so grand, so statured, so profound.

From my vantage point, it seems to stretch its way up to the tip top of the sky.

Wow.

I see pillars and arches 

Plants that reach upwards and delicately coil back.

Stars and flowers

Inscriptions 

Faces and bodies 

Shells and shields 

Perfectly framed windows and grand, green wooden doors.

I see a cross and a clock

Bells that I eagerly anticipate to be rung

Some things are so high up there that I cannot even make out what they are.

I see clouds gently gliding by in the background, even further solidifying this perfectly picturesque scene.

I see gray-colored stairs speckled with brown, black and white 

I see cracks throughout their foundation 

I see green and brown colored weeds peeking themselves through.

I see a crown of flowers 

The words MADRE written above the open door

I see tourists who have paid to climb up to the top of the bell tower who stick their heads over the railing above and wave aggressively as they yell, “Hello!” to their friends below who refrained from climbing the 250 steps.  

I see a family step out of the church doors 

The young girl holds her bible in hand

They take a moment to wander at the view of Modica which lies upon the eyes as one exits the church. 

They snap a photo and the people who I assume are the parents share a kiss 

My heart softens 

A sign of love shared between two for their littles to see 

How precious. 

I see couples stretch their arms long and far, scanning up and down as they aim to capture the whole of the facade behind them in their selfie. 

I sit and I look 

My eyes scan and then stare 

Scan and then stare 

Scan and then stare.

I say to myself again, 

Wow.

There is so much to see.

As my head continues its rotation to the right, green trees line the descent of the stairs and I see a balcony with two windows whose shutters are pushed out. 

Baskets of plants hang on the railing

A cactus sticks up in the center

A few chairs and three red ceramic statues 

A typical depiction of Sicily.

I think to myself, what an incredible place that would be to stay for a while.  

Several visitors make their way up and down the stairs 

I observe their interactions. 

Some stop for selfies 

Pose for photos smiling towards a loved one below 

Some stop for a few moments and look up 

Some continue with their head down toward the stairs as they ascend towards the entrance doors.  

I continue to sit here, deeply content and increasingly amazed.  

If only walls could speak, right?

It is hard to believe the meticulous attention to detail 

The intricate thoughtfulness that would have gone into planning each and every millimeter of this place. 

It is incredible.  

As I am writing, a man from Holland approaches me and asks if the church is open. 

I told him that they were closed for lunch but should open back up around 3:00. 

He said,  “It is beautiful.”

“I know, I like to just sit here and take it all in.”  

He said, “It is nearly impossible to do, isn't it? This whole place is like a walking museum.”  

“Exactly,” I said. 

My mind lingers on the thought that not many things are made or carried out in such profound ways anymore.  

I think about what a shame that is.  

This church was reopened to the public in 1738 after the original structure suffered damage from various earthquakes.

I am sitting here today in October of 2024 marveling at it as if it were new.  

If my eyes release stare, I feel a tug inside that says,

Oh no! What did I miss? I must look back! 

As if I am a child in a candy store experiencing that intense longing to eat each and every colorful piece until I have a sugar high that will last for days.  

Must have more.  

Must see more.  

Must take it in. 

Recently, I have been thinking about the fact that we all have options.  

The architects of this Duomo had the option to pay as close attention to the details as they did - or to not.  

Visitors have the option to stand and stare at the decoration or to glance momentarily and pass by.  

Communities have the option to take care of their precious dwellings such as this or to allow them to dwindle with time.  

Moreover,  we each have options in our day-to-day lives. 

We have options regarding how we spend our time.  

We have options regarding what we consume along the way.

We have options regarding what we choose to look at through our gaze. 

We choose whether we will smile and say hello to those whom we pass by or if we will hold tunnel vision and lock eyes only on the destination to which we stride. 

We have the option as to whether we seek the opportunity to engage with those around us in the mundane moments of life or if we will stand in solitude with ourselves, headphones in, phones scrolled.  

Whether we will be present throughout our existence or pay attention only to the people, places or things that have been pinpointed as worthy along the way.

Options.  

To recognize them

To be aware of them

To take hold of them throughout our days.

As I sit here in a spot that I intend to continue to frequent for the duration of my time in this place, 

I think about the fact that I hope to proceed with intention when it comes to the options that are presented to me.  

To take hold of the opportunities that present themselves in my life.  

I think about how I hope to be able to discern what my options are,

One from the next,

And that I am able to grasp the options that feel aligned with my heart. 

As the architects of this Duomo paid meticulous attention to detail to ensure that it stands miraculous even after centuries have passed by,

May we carefully choose which routes we take 

May we be aware of how intentional we are

May we live a life filled with intricate thoughtfulness about where we lay our next steps

And may we be meticulous in stepping forth into the options that are presented to our hearts.

The Duomo, Duomo Di San Giorgio in Modica, Sicily.

The pillar, third from the base of the stairs on the left.

The spot, a profound location that I hope one day your eyes can lay rest.