Ciao! Welcome!
I’m Nancy Perin—a sociologist, storyteller, laughter yoga enthusiast, and mama of a rapper.
I’ve spent over two decades fostering meaningful connections and building bridges between people and communities. My work is deeply inspired by my own intercultural love story and my belief in the power of creating caring, inclusive communities.
My Career at a Glance:
With a degree in Sociology and over 20 years of experience in Italy, I’ve guided communities and individuals through change and growth.
My professional journey has focused on building bridges—between people, teams, and cultures—through leadership, coaching, and creating meaningful community experiences.
I’m now based in Canada, where I combine my passion for sociology, mindfulness, and storytelling to offer transformative cultural experiences and my writings.
The Heart of It All:
At the heart of everything I do is a belief in connection, whether it’s sharing a meal, a story, or a moment of vulnerability, the bonds we create shape who we are.
I believe in showing up fully and authentically, embracing the beauty in life’s messiness, and building bridges that unite us.
I believe in the power of laughter, stories, and good food to bring people together.
For me, it all comes down to living with courage, creating meaningful bonds, and always leading with an open heart.
My motto? “Stay mindful, sustainable, and open-minded.”
I was born in Canada, on Lake Ontario, to Italian parents, during the season when the temperature begins to make peonies bloom… As my mother joked, “Due to a mass,” fate brought them together in church on a Sunday. She was a light soprano who sang in the choir coached by her uncle Mariano that day. My father, who was on sabbatical, played the organ that day, an instrument he had studied during his years of seminary preparation. My mother had previously resided in a little community with peasant origins in the centre of Abruzzo, in the province of L’Aquila. Where the medieval walls still seem to guard the tower, while down the valley the lanes with new dwellings smell of must during the fall grape harvest. An ancient landscape of vineyards, olive trees, and golden wheat fields splashed with the crimson of poppies at the start of summer. An ancient and modern that have retained a sense of community across time.
My father was born in a town in the valley of the Little Dolomites, in the Veneto province of Vicenza. He entered the seminary at the age of eight, graduated, and trained to become a missionary priest in Milan, Rome, and London. After being ordained a priest by Pope Paul VI, the conflict emerged when his aspiration to the mission clashed with the Church’s expectations for him. Their journey began with those notes and Pope Paul VI’s papal authorization for their wedding. We returned to Italy, where my sister was born, a year after I was born.
We spent our childhood in the small town where my mother’s family lived… We were raised in a vibrant family setting with bread and the Gospel, sharing everyday life with differently-abled individuals at the institute where our father worked.
At our grandparents’ house, there was no need for an excuse to gather around the sound of a guitar. Our relatives and uncles were musicians, singers, artists, and painters, including our great-uncle Giosue’ De Benedictis, who founded the Benedictis Art Academy in Boston in 1908.
‘They used to sew’ in a room at my great-grandmother’shouse. I enjoyed seeing the movement of the hands and the threads sinking into the fabric.
I began studying classical dance at the age of six and continued until I left for university. I’ve had the pleasure to dance solo in Ravel’s Bolero and to play the two swans in Swan Lake over the years.
I can still smell the moist wood of the theatre stage, feel the weariness, and the excruciating scars on my toes wrapped in bandages from the pointe shoes when I close my eyes and recall the preparations for the end-of-year show.
‘En pointe,’ ‘piqué,’ ‘arabesque,’ ‘attitude,’ ‘fouetté,’ ‘pas de cheval’ not only describe dance movements, but also the objective of physical presence, discipline, listening skills, dedication… And lastly, grace, that sensation of thankfulness one experiences while becoming music in motion…
Being brought up in a small town allowed us to be in touch with nature and to mark the rhythms of growing with religious festivals and village fairs.
How many giggles did I have with my sister during the grape harvest, while we were in the stone vat pressing grapes barefoot? A boundary-less movement. A scent-based game. Soft freshness in steps. I never stopped looking for opportunities to walk barefoot after that…
Our parents taught us that caring for the relationship between individuals builds a sense of community and reciprocity, because, as Aristotle said, “one cannot be happy alone; one must be at least two.” Much better if one is many, working collaboratively instead of apart….
This living in a country inhabited by a community of human paradoxes, capable of tremendous solidarity gestures and of abandoning this kindness at other times.
When we consider how much our parents have conquered, we are filled with gratitude for their bravery, respect for their integrity, and empathy for the loneliness they experienced during the challenges they faced together…
We saw them in action in front of individuals who were hungry or in need of assistance as witnesses to their life. I’ve never wondered if it was my father acting or his “priestly habitus.” What I saw was the credibility of his faith, manifested in actions, with my mother by his side.
As a result, our family’s journey has been one into the heart, into a sense of welcome, where my sister and I have shared bread with many other “brothers and sisters.”
After graduation, life events compelled me to returnto my father’s homeland. For 24 years, the fabric of my personal and professional biography was knitted in this entrepreneurial fabric, which was developedby the pioneering vision of the Marzotto founders.
My son Davide was born in this location, where the green of the valley meets Venetian industriousness, and his first cry prophesied his destiny in hip hop rap music.
Each of us has probably heard at least once in our lives the account of our birth from our mother, aunt, or friend, complete with descriptions that border on psychological terrorism and closing with the line “don’t worry, you’ll forget everything anyhow!”
Instead, I recall how my son’s first lesson was “breathing in the breath,” and how from that point on, I began to explore yoga, active meditation, and the power of breath.
It wasn’t life-changing events like my divorce and 17 years of singleness, the 2008 financial crisis and job market collapse, or the 2009 earthquake in L’Aquila that drew me back to Abruzzo after living in Veneto for 24 years.
My father’s illness was what drew me back. I became an impromptu mason, painter, electrician, and interior decorator to ready the house for this new reality. I never knew what the day or night would bring while caring for him. To comply with the physicians’ orders, I learnt from my father how to administer injections…
To fight a battle laden with tragicomic moments, I cut my hairlike a marine and took training to become a Laughter Yoga Teacher, a discipline that claims the ability to laugh without cause.
That was a perfect fit for my situation, and it was also a chance to celebrate a great travel companion, my laughter, by recognizing its inherent capacity to generate well-being.
A Facebook picture. A comment was made on it. A brief exchange with no expectations. After some time, a serendipitous encounter in the place where my mum was also born.
In the handful of months still snatched from life, I hear my father conversing in English with him, exchanging distant memories…
Before that time, who has ever considered being born in Canada during the season when peonies begin to bloom?
It seemed as if destiny was retracing its steps… while unknown eyes captured its scheme…
I’m at my father’s office, holding a box containing some paperwork, including my Canadian passport with a photo of me as a youngster and a customs receipt for the camera from our trip to Italy, dated June 7, 1970. It’s my mother comeback, and it’s my first time. I will be returning to Canada on June 8, 2019.
He is waiting for me in Toronto. For both of us, this is the start of a new adventure, an opportunity to mix the best of both cultures by rediscovering our roots in Italy and Canada.
A new voyage that will allow us to share the best of what these two worlds have to offer in terms of landscapes, cultures, gastronomy, arts, architecture, and traditions.
The “Journeysta” idea is born, a wonderful way to build intercultural bridges and inclusion, expanding one’s roots towards a greater sense of belonging to the “human community.”
To those who have played and continue to play a singularly special role in my life, I seize this moment to express my profound appreciation and heartfelt gratitude for your unwavering presence. As I reflect upon the voyage of existence, I am keenly aware of the significance acknowledging and expressing gratitude towards those who have left an indelible mark upon my soul.
I offer my deepest gratitude for the unique gifts bestowed upon me by your presence in my journey. Your steadfast support, unwavering encouragement, and boundless love have made a profound and resonant difference in my life. Your mere presence has been a luminous beacon of joy, comfort, and inspiration, for which I am profoundly grateful. Your impact has enriched my life in immeasurable ways, guiding me through challenges and fostering my growth into the person I am today.
The moments we have shared together are precious treasures that I hold dear to my heart, and the memories we will continue to create are the true wealth that will endure forever. Your presence in my life has brought immeasurable happiness, and I am fortunate beyond measure to have you by my side.
Please know that I deeply value your presence in my life and hold you dearly in my heart…
© Copyright Nancy Perin 2025
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