A long awaited trip to Italy turned into a lesson in trust, creativity, and the quiet work of returning to center. Join me in The Mandala Corner this November.
I had been planning this trip for months. A direct flight to Italy. An itinerary filled with highlights from Puglia, Naples, and the Amalfi Coast. Even our kittens were set. We found a kind and competent live in sitter. Everything felt beautifully aligned. What could go wrong
At first, everything went as expected. The usual travel bumps, small delays, moments of adjusting to a new rhythm. All part of the adventure.
Until day four.
A message came from our cat sitter. One of our kittens was in distress. She took him to the vet, who quickly referred him to the emergency room. They did not know if he had ingested a toxin or was having a neurological event.
My heart dropped. This was not supposed to happen.
Our kittens are only seven months old. They are healthy, playful, vaccinated, and full of life. Suddenly one of them was fighting for his.
He was admitted to the intensive care unit. He was limp, blind, and unable to stand or eat. Even the specialists were not sure what was happening or if he would survive.
My dream vacation became a stress vacation. Jet lag, worry, and sleepless nights waiting for updates.
By day six, a small miracle. He turned a corner. The vets said he could go home to be monitored.
The relief was enormous. I am happy to share that today he is thriving. In fact, he is playing fetch with me as I write this.
As for me, the exhaustion settled in. The sore throat and cough were not just stress. I had COVID.
But that is not really the story.
The story is about what happened within all that uncertainty. How life gently pulled me out of my linear plans and back into the circle.
The Circle That Holds
Between vet calls and naps, I found myself sketching mandalas. I began noticing circles everywhere. Church domes, tiled floors, and the petals of ancient mosaics.
Circles within circles.
No beginning. No end.
Only balance, symmetry, and quiet containment.
Each one seemed to whisper, You are held.
The circle reminds me of the womb. It is that original place of safety and creation. It is also the place we spend much of our lives trying to understand or return to.
When things fall apart, the circle invites us back. It does not demand control or answers. It simply holds what hurts until it is ready to heal.
In the MARI system, the Mandala Assessment Research Instrument, rosettes and flowers appear in Stages 8 and 9. These are the stages of personal ripening and authentic connection. Stage 8 speaks to autonomy, will, and creativity. Stage 9 expands that energy outward into connection, contribution, and love.
Italy showed me both. The joy of blossoming and the necessity of softening. Of letting go of what I thought I was there to do and listening instead for what the moment asked of me.
When Plans Change
Do your plans always unfold the way you hope
Mine did not.
It is okay to feel disappointed when life takes a turn.
When you only have eight days to explore a dream destination, there is not much space for wallowing. I also worried that I might have unknowingly passed the illness to others. That too became part of the lesson. Not blame, but awareness.
A pause.
A breath.
An invitation to sit with the unknown.
Sometimes we are called to trust life. Not to like or fully understand what is happening, but to allow it to move us gently back toward center.
Returning to Wholeness
Everywhere I looked, Italy offered reminders of the circle’s wisdom. Rose windows in cathedrals. Halos in sacred paintings. The Eucharist. Even the crown of thorns.
Each one spoke of wholeness.
Wholeness is not perfection.
It is presence.
Even in disruption, life keeps inviting us back to that original shape. The circle that heals, holds, and reconnects.
I will be exploring more of this in The Mandala Corner this November. If you feel called to return to your center, I invite you to join me.
With care,
Mari Grande, LCAT, ATR BC
Mari Grande is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and a Creative Arts Psychotherapist in New York, New Jersey, California, and Florida with 20+ years of experience working with individuals and groups. She specializes in using creativity to help people heal from traumatic events.
