Cancel Anytime

I don't remember how the group chat began and I prefer to keep it that way; the mysterious origins of love affairs and friendships lose their magic when we scroll back to the precise date and time of a thing. I can say that there are three of us, two other women and myself, who decided a few years ago to start a group chat where we could make plans with the best of intentions and without the fear of not being able to fulfill them. We called it "Cancel Anytime".

As time went on we became closer friends and I'd like to think it's in large part because our group chat became a sort of digital State of Grace. We really could cancel anytime, and we did. One of us might get a bad night of sleep and not feel up to whatever plan we'd made. Another might get called to work or get called by the demons of creative inspiration at the last minute. It might be too rainy, too sunny, or simply too much for that day. And because we had made this unconditional pact that we could cancel anytime, we always understood. The group chat is now filled with memes, ridiculous ideas, commentary about the dogs or cats we saw on the street, and affirmations of how much we appreciate one another. I never, ever dread seeing a notification for it come up on my phone and it's one of the few chats that is an exception to the sacred Do Not Disturb setting. Because we might need each other at some point and although I know they'd understand if I did, I don't want to miss it.

For much longer than the Cancel Anytime chat has existed, I have held the sincere intention of writing a newsletter. I have procrastinated with the same sincerity and invented the most wonderful reasons for not starting. Honestly, if I went through them all you'd be amazed at how faultless logic can be when we do mental gymnastics to bend it to our deepest insecurities. I have now published eight books, written another couple that aren't yet on shelves, translated one or two, and have enough articles to my name to convince the Italian foreign press to admit me. These books are on shelves all over the world and for a few years now, people pick up their trusted Lonely Planet guidebooks and take my advice on where to go, what to do, and how to enjoy it. By all accounts, I'm doing pretty well at this whole writing thing.

But this is a little different. This is me asking you to invite me into your world, to think and talk and wander with me down a path that may not always be so straight or clearly defined. I want to talk about travel in a way that I don't always get to do within the confines of a guidebook or magazine, because it's something that we've all got questions about or experiences with. Travel is that one funny thing that makes us all feel further from and closer to our real selves no matter how we do it, and I want to talk about it that way. It's also one of the most revolutionary acts that we can do because it changes us and forces change through us, and you'll probably learn pretty quickly that I love a good revolution.

But I want to talk about more than that. I spent a lot of time working on and in and around politics, and sometimes I still think about it. Sometimes I want to talk about it. I've worked in more restaurants than I can remember, and sometimes this might be the thing I want to tell you about. I am very good at astrology and if we get to that part, it'll be a blast. I think I'll probably get the courage somewhere along the line to share some of the things I write about that come from different, deeper places. If you want to meet me there, I will do my very best to show up, and I will write. I don't expect it to all come out perfectly, and you have no reason to consider me an expert on any of the above or anything I've left out.

And if you can't go with me to any or all of those places, it's ok. You can cancel anytime. I might not always show up either. I too might delay, or postpone, or cancel. Anytime. We might invent reasons to hide away for a bit because wounds can reopen unexpectedly. We don't have to explain that to each other. Because cancelling anytime means unconditionally loving and always leaving the door open. Cancelling anytime necessarily implies picking back up at any time, and not asking for any explanation.

Structure is still an exotic thing for me, and I like the idea of having something to send out on Sundays. It's a lovely day for a chat, really: there is an implicit mood of exception where we can be both mildly pious and moderately hungover with equal generosity. Here in Rome, the church bells always ring on Sundays and I tend to think they celebrate both things.

If we haven't formally met, my name is Virginia. Many people call me Ginger, and that's alright, though I quite like my true name. As time goes on, I think this will get easier. Right now it feels like I'm exercising for the first time in front of a window in the middle of Times Square, wearing a leotard that someone lent me. It's weird. It'll get easier.