There’s a moment in Italy—around 2 p.m.—where everything softens.

Not the whole city, not entirely. The shops stay open. People still move through the streets. But the restaurants? They close their doors. The tables clear. The clatter and chatter pause.

It’s not nap time. It’s reset time.

Not rushed. Not forced. Just… a collective exhale.

And I didn’t realize how much I needed that until I was inside it.

I haven’t always been an early riser, but I’ve come to love the energy of the mornings at this stage of life. I especially love waking up to the rooster—nature’s alarm reminding me it’s time to rise, stretch, begin again.

But Italy offered me something else: A midday moment to step out of time. A quiet permission to sit, reflect, sip, notice.

To lie still.

To wander.

To be a little undone before the next part of the day begins.

And then—like clockwork—around 6 or 7, the streets begin to hum again. People reemerge. Aperitivo clinks. Dinner reservations start rolling in.

But the best ones? They’re at 9 p.m.

Evenings stretch long and slow, filled with presence and appetite. You’re not racing to the end of the day. You’re dwelling inside it.

That rhythm? It changed me.

Maybe life doesn’t need to be so “balanced.” Maybe it’s more about rhythm.

More breath.

More pause.

More honoring of when to open—and when to rest.

So if you’ve been tired lately—maybe it’s not you. Maybe you just haven’t given yourself the 2 p.m. permission slip.

Try it. Even just once. Let everything pause.

And see what stirs when you return.

È il momento! Michelle