Sacred journeys
Her first book was about living a year in Italy.
Her second book is about a trip to Italy.
Susan Hall Pohlman ’81 likes Italy. For art. For architecture. For food. And for being a wondrous place for reflection, thought and discernment.
Her second book, A Time to Seek: Meaning, Purpose and Spirituality at Midlife (Riviera Publishing), was occasioned by a Christmas present from her husband, former Flyer basketball forward Tim Pohlman ’80. That Christmas was the final one in her 40s, and she had begun to fear the forward movement of time — her father leaning on a blue cane, her mother’s teal velour running suit. (“I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her run.”) She was suddenly aware that important things in her life were starting to end.
Tim’s gift of a week in Florence was a surprise to her. It was also a surprise to their daughter, Katie, who was planning on a semester abroad. In Florence. Katie’s reaction? Writes Pohlman, “I knew that the big smile pasted across her face was about as genuine as that of a first runner-up in a beauty pageant.”
Well, every book needs some conflict. Spoiler alert: Katie did not commit any acts of violence on her parents.
Pohlman sees some journeys as sacred — the kind of journeys that are about “more than sightseeing, more than artwork or ancient ruins or exotic landscapes. Something deep within calls us forward and inward.” Intentional travel allows time to sit with life’s big questions and ease the way through times of transition.
Those journeys are opportunities to simplify our lives, to focus our thoughts, to see what really matters. She used her time in Florence to reflect on midlife and her transition to the empty nest.
Writing as a serious pursuit came to her relatively late. In her 30s, she wrote personal essays. During the next two decades, she studied screenwriting and wrote short films. At 49, she published her first book, a memoir, Halfway to Each Other: How a Year in Italy Brought Our Family Home (Guideposts). She was 59 when A Time to Seek was published. Currently, she is working on a middlegrade novel, coaching writing, and editing.
Pohlman believes that life’s crises can become opportunities for growth: “Dark periods of life have led me to the most meaningful realizations.”
One dark period came when she and Tim were on the verge of divorce. They had tried counseling, but it wasn’t working. In May 2003, while on a business trip, they were walking along the shore of the Ligurian Sea off the west coast of Italy. They were miserable. They were tired of trying. Susan had hired a lawyer at home in Los Angeles.
Tim stopped. He asked Susan to take her eyes off the blue of the sea and look at him. He said, “I could live here.”
And so they talked and decided to sign a lease on an apartment near Genoa rather than divorce papers; and then they quit their jobs, sold their house and moved with their two children to Italy. As recounted in Halfway to Each Other, their lives simplified and they all grew closer together.
“Letting go of ‘shoulds’ and ‘musts’ and adopting an attitude of ‘let’s see where this takes us,’” Pohlman said, “allowed for the rebirth of enchantment and delight. ... It forced us to live in the moment and be present for each other.”
Pohlman admits that one does not have to go to Italy to learn to say “no” to the clutter in our lives and “yes” to the occasions and the people that matter.
Nevertheless, when she opened the Christmas envelope that contained news of Tim’s gift of a trip to Florence, she said, “I ran to give him the biggest hug of my life.”