By Daniela Sfara
The idea of beauty is as old as thought itself. Plato saw it as the language of the universe — a harmony of numbers, proportions, and the divine — something eternal, unchanging, interlaced throughout the natural world.
To help you visualize what he meant, imagine the universe not as silent and still, but as if every star and planet moved with the cadence of a vast symphony — much like walking through an olive grove at dawn, sunlight spilling over each leaf just so, shadows stretching across gnarled trunks, or noticing the quiet, perfect symmetry of a pile of stacked books.
These subtle patterns, often overlooked, reflect how beauty emerges as a way to understand the world and feel in tune with something larger than ourselves — the same resonance Plato recognized in the cosmos.
For him, beauty was not merely seen; it was intuited, as though the soul could hear the music of existence in every quiet, omnipresent melody.
Nearly two thousand years later, philosophy shifted its focus. No longer concerned with cosmic ideals, beauty moved into the realm of human perception. Alexander Gottlieb Baumgarten, born in 1714, gave this exploration a name: “aesthetics,” literally the study of human sensibility. He believed that beauty is not merely seen; it is felt, sensed, and absorbed through every facet of our perception. What mattered was not eternal perfection, but how beauty resonated within each individual.
That there were roughly 2,150 years between Plato and Baumgarten — just a few strokes of midnight bridging ancient and modern thought — reminds us how long humanity has contemplated the same question: is beauty something we discover, or something we create?
Today, beauty inhabits a very different landscape. It thrives in curated images, filters, products, and trends. At times, it can feel urgent, performative, and fleeting — an endless cycle of surface impressions. Yet beneath this modern veneer, the essence of beauty remains a dialogue between our senses and the world around us, waiting to be rediscovered in places that honour timeless, experiential harmony.
I was born in 1975 — a far stretch into the future from the 1700s, and even more so from around 427 BCE, when Plato was born — but philosophy from the so-called modern scholars of intellectual theory has always fascinated me. In considering which philosopher’s ideas resonate most, I often ponder the hybrid and wonder:
What if beauty truly is a merging of three worlds — the eternal, the perceived, and the lived?
When I think of beauty as a lived experience, I cannot help but think Italy has always understood this. It is a place where philosophy leaves the page and becomes tangible, breathing life into landscapes, traditions, and daily rituals.
You see it everywhere, really, but I want to share one of the secrets behind that sun-kissed, effortless glow Italians have. Today, I’ll take you to the warm thermal springs and baths that, for centuries, have restored mind, body, and soul. For some, these springs might be considered a luxury, but to local Italians they are inheritances — reminders that nature itself insists on healing and revealing us at our most essential.
Here, the pursuit of beauty begins within the self — in the emotion and personality expressed through sun-kissed skin, an effervescent aura, and seemingly effortless elegance. It also begins outdoors, where nature meets tradition in the most unexpected ways.
Walk along the coastline, and you see steam rising from volcanic vents or mineral-rich springs tucked into hidden valleys. Getting close and dipping your hands into water warmed by the earth itself — letting it cascade over your skin and linger — carries a history spanning centuries. The warmth comforts, a quiet whisper that body, mind, and spirit belong to the same system, each deserving attention and care.
It’s visceral. And when we allow ourselves to be still, noticing the simple beauties in every corner, we realize how profoundly alive the world is.
This is just one example of the marvels scattered across Italy: thermal springs and mud baths where nature offers some of the most rewarding rituals for nurturing both inner and outer well-being.
As you wander through the country, each site reveals its own story, its own personality. In the Isole Eolie — the Aeolian Islands just a few kilometres off the northern coast of Sicily — black sand stretches underfoot, the air carries a faint scent of sulphur, and shallow pools formed by volcanic rocks hold mud rich with minerals, coating your skin like a soft, natural veil. It’s a place where I’ve spent countless hours, and I can say with certainty that no massage, facial, or seat at a nail salon leaves you feeling so pampered.
Throughout Calabria, a handful of thermal springs offer the chance to be cradled in warm, sulphur-rich waters. Galatro is one of them — a small village on the western slopes of the Calabrian Serre. There, you’ll find the Sant’Elia thermal spring, where the waters of Galatro have been renowned since time immemorial.
As early as the 8th century, local monks used these springs as healing medicine to treat the ill. Light filters softly through the trees, and the waters soothe the skin, leaving a glow that reaches deeper than surface beauty — easing tension, extending breaths, and calming the mind.
But it is the ritual itself — pausing, being present in a living piece of history — that heals completely.
Perhaps what I appreciate most about this hidden corner of Calabria is the hyper-local nature of these springs. Galatro is not easily reached by public transportation, so renting a car during your next trip to Italy is ideal, even if only to experience this treasure.
Spending just a day in these waters anywhere in Italy reveals that beauty — and the way Italians approach it — is wonderfully simple.
When you feel good, you look good. And when you look good, you feel good.
This is just one of the reasons Italians carry themselves with such effortless elegance. The beauty of water, stone, and air seems to spill over into the way men and women stroll through the piazza, walk home from morning shopping carrying bags in hand, or gather at the bar for a caffè or an aperitivo. Even the simplest outfit is worn with a grace that feels instinctive and unforced. Contrast this with much of today’s world, where beauty often feels applied — makeup layered to conceal rather than reveal, hours spent indoors in salons or under lamps in spas chasing the restoration that Italy’s waters have always freely given.
In many ways, these baths are merely the natural finishing bronzer on the skin before stepping out the door with elegance, poise, and quiet confidence.
The thermal and spring baths scattered in hidden corners of Italy reveal a subtle lesson about beauty: it unfolds; it emerges. Sun on the face after a morning in a mineral-rich stream, lightness in the step from muscles loosened by warm water, clarity in the mind after deep breaths where earth and water meet — these moments craft true radiance.
Wherever these magical springs are found — across the coasts and mountains of Italy — the enchantment of beauty in their waters lies in noticing, feeling, and participating in a living tradition. Italian beauty flows — sensory and profoundly human — beginning in the embrace of the natural world itself.
I truly believe that beauty is not about covering or manufacturing, but about aligning with what already exists: an attunement to nature, to history, and to self.
In Italy, beauty is lived and experienced; it arises naturally from interaction with the environment, the body, the mind, and the soul — and, without need for declaration, it is effortlessly remembered.
So, the next time you’re in Italy, pamper yourself in nature’s spa: waters that make your skin glisten, serenity that restores and revitalizes your body, and warmth that nourishes your soul. – VV
