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Greetings from Sicily

pizza, pomodoro, and permission to rest
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I'm writing to you from Palermo, where just 48 hours into my first real break in two years, I’m feeling the shift.

The spark of newness — new cultures, new flavors, new history — is already feeding my spirit.

It’s reminding me: you don't have to cross an ocean to honor your need for rest. But you do have to honor it.

Sharing a little slice of joy: me making authentic Sicilian pizza — not the big doughy slab we’re used to in America, but a thin crust with a touch of fresh pomodoro sauce, chopped tomatoes, parmesan, anchovies, oregano, and parsley — and committing Italian-American sacrilege by going light on the tomatoes since I don’t like them (weird, I know! 🍅🤷‍♀️).

More soon — but for now, I’m leaning into the magic of downtime and discovery. Wherever you are, I hope you’ll do the same.

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