As our week in Rome draws to an end, Joel and I find ourselves discussing the profound topic of how we have been changed by this experience. The immediate answers have been that we are a whole week older and that our muscles are aching in brand new ways. However, as our glasses of vino become consumed, our conversation shifts to celebrating those random paths that can lead to endless delights.

All roads may lead to Rome, but we have thoroughly enjoyed being among those who have roamed the roads of Rome. Setting out each morning, sometimes with a plan, sometimes with a plan that unfolds as we walk and sometimes with no plan, we find that by being open to what life brings, we attract messages that resonate with truths.

One of today’s discoveries involved the Spanish Steps, which held a magical attraction for us. I searched the internet to learn more about that very popular hang-out and discovered a not-so-hidden treasure. On our way up those 135 steps, we passed right by the very house where John Keats spent the last part of his life. This two story home which skims the lower steps now serves as a museum, holding treasures of Keats, Shelley and Byron. Below is a view of the terrace from which Keats viewed the Spanish steps almost 200 years ago.