LIFE IS WORTH LIVING. IT’S THE GREATEST GIFT AND THESE ARE NOT JUST OLD WORDS.


Life is a little bit like swinging, you know? I am sure you used to have a lot of fun as a child, and maybe even now sometimes, when you wobbled on the swing, am I wrong?
 

Swinging up towards the sky and down to the ground, up facing the sun and down almost falling again, up feeling like flying and down to touch mother earth again.  

Life is a complex oscillation, a continuous swaying, a road whose end we cannot foresee, whose ultimate meaning we can’t never fully understand, but whose beauty we can enjoy everyday. It’s true though that we also have to experience its random ugliness.  

You can’t expect life to be all and only sunshine. If it was, I bet you wouldn’t be able to appreciate it. You learn how to really love, if  you taste the bitter flavor of hate. You learn how to be happy if you truly suffer. Even if you suffer because of the mere reason of being alive, of having been put in this mortal body which doesn’t seem capacious enough to contain your big and great soul. Nobody asked your permission to give you birth, you were thrown onto this earth without you willing it, but how could you have a will if you didn’t exist? Assuming that you didn’t exist, before existing here on this earth to which we belong , without her belonging to us? But if you hadn’t been born, you wouldn’t even know what “to ask” means.  And asking is one of the most amazing things we are able to do. Most animals don’t question what they see, what they feel, what they are. I dare say we are the only species that does it, and “questioning” is part of our human greatness, of what makes us humans in the first place.  

It’s the ability not only to see, but to watch, not only to feel but to acknowledge the fact that we are feeling, to memorize emotions, to ‘replay’ them in our souls, to build thoughts around them, to learn from them, to fail and be misled and to find a new answer, a new lesson in every mistake, in every feeling, in every impression, in anything. 

It’s the freedom we are given to wonder, about what’s around us and inside us, the possibility to keep looking for answers that we may never find. Yet the journey towards an answer enriches our minds, gives them pleasure, makes our hearts find their rhythm.  

We feel overwhelmed sometimes. All the forms, the uncountable ingredients of the unknown that surrounds us, they get to us, they get into us and try to fit in the schemes of our even more mysterious minds… It’s too much even for us, the “mighty” humans. We are profound, but it hurts if we try to dig deeper inside us, deeper than our means allow. Sometimes it’s just not healthy to keep digging, and it’s not easy to admit that even if we are SO “big”, so vast, so huge, such giants that we can’t even behold ourselves with just one look, same as we can’t behold the horizon in one single moment, and yet the horizon is an endless limit, just like we are endless limited…  We are not limitless.  

But we are infinite. This ,we don’t always notice and often forget. Not because we are humble, on the contrary most of us have delusions of grandeur. Actually by being humble we truly appreciate our greatness, the fact that we are infinite. To achieve humility, it is perhaps necessary to spend some time alone, with ourselves and nobody to remind us of all the imperfections of humanity (which tend to push us to want to raise them, and prevent us from seeing that they are what makes us perfect) and with the sole company of the Everything we’re surrounded by.  Sometimes it happens without us realizing it. To me, for example,  it happens when I go for a walk and it’s dark, and I don’t know where I am going, I just go, and I feel like I accept this ignorance I can’t get rid of, no matter how much research I do, how much I study… Darkness is so empty and so full, so unclear and subtly nuanced and yet so monotonous that I realize that… this is it and there’s nothing I can do but to embrace it, and it feels amazing. And nothing else matters. It also happens when I am alone facing the sun rising, I lay back my head and just feel the air and the warmth of light, my eyes float into the pale sky that is slowly given its colors, its given its life back after the darkness had taken all away, that’s when I realize that I am immortal just like sunsets and sunrises, WE  ARE IMMORTAL IN OUR MORTAL BODIES; we are immortal and scared and living little creatures in front of the incomprehensible majesty that goes on since the beginning of time and will go on till time stops, if it ever does, which means forever, and I don’t even know what that means, and it scares me somehow because I don’t even know what finite is, how I am supposed to understand infinity 

The point is: I am experiencing something, all the time, and it’s beautiful and it’s sweet. The eyes of the person you love are beautiful and you don’t wonder why, you just love them because it’s enough, the lips of the person you love taste sweet when they kiss you and you don’t wonder why, you just love them, and it’s enough.   

I know that I can choose whether to accept this beauty that is given to me, without me asking for it, or go back to my hole of despair, where I suffocate while wondering in circles, impotent, incapable to find all the answers, suffering without knowing why, seeming to loose a control that I never had over me, over life, over anything. I have control only if I accept beauty as it is, love it, enjoy it, experience it with my whole being, devoting myself to its existence, to my existence in it, to my being a part of it. 

I can choose to just live, to seek happiness in the beauty of the reality. Because dreams are wonderful, but reality, that big scary unknown outside us, or the other big scary unknown  inside us, inspired our dreams, and we can find them in reality, even more wonderful than we ever imagined them. We can choose everyday to be happy, to accept love if it’s given to us (you can experience love watching birds flying, watching waves reaching the beach once and over and over again without ever getting tired of it, trust me you’ll find love in every piece of nature, if you want to, and in its masterpiece of course: people, starting with your family, and then your friends, and finally that one person for whom you’ll want, or already want to live for and with whom you want to live with) and to give love. To SHARE LOVE: you don’t really receive if you don’t give yourself something, receivenig is more like “sharing” than just “taking”.

Before you stop, darling, you want to see how far you can go. I explored my depths, I ate at the same table with my demons and listened to them, believe me, it wasn’t easy, they like to hurt me and to scream but they talk in a very low and hoarse voice, not easy to understand at all and ultimately rather poor of actual content. I got to know them and I discovered that they were not worth stop living for, and that if my life was at risk and I could choose to rescue it or to let it go, I would definite prefer to save it rather than loosing what I haven’t yet experienced to its fullest. I would save me because those demons don’t need to be further fed, but I do, and I AM NOT MY DEMONS. I am starving and life can give me what I seek for. 

And it might be interesting so show them, to my demons, what I find worth living for: BEAUTY and LOVE and GO(O)DNES. Those demons can turn into angels if they listen to the right harmony, if they look to the colors of the skies rather than the to vacuum they are (not) made of, if they touch the pure lightness of the water rather than the dirt towed away by drops of rain.  

The point is to love, what you are doing and who you are, who’ve you become, who you are now and who you will be the moment after, and the moment after that, and in a couple of years, and the day you’ll die. And the thing is, we need inspiration, we need to live, we just do, everybody feels it, craves for life; this emptiness inside us will be filled by some inspiration, and life gives us that.  

Loose yourself in the diamonds of the see kissed by sunlight, in the dancing whirl of  orange leaves, in the union of your soul and your body to the person you love, in the voices and genuine laughter of little children singing and playing in the streets, in the tears when you weep, in the sound of the city in daylight and in its imperfect silence when the moon steals from the sun its place in the sky, in the sky when the seesaw brings you up, up, up. In the grass, in the ground, in the flowers, in the stones when the seesaw brings you down, down, down. 

C’è un perché al massimo benessere che provo nella condivisione del bello?

Perché ciò che più conta è l’essere con l’altro, l’essere insieme?

Perché il piacere è massimo e sublime se è piacere comune a due, tre, quattro, mille persone? 

Siamo geneticamente programmati per provare le emozioni più grandi quando la vita è esperienza condivisa, in modo da garantire la socialità, il rapporto e quindi la preservazione della specie? Si riduce a questo l’amore, la felicità della comunione? A strumento di salvaguardia dell’umanità? A strumento, a fonte di vita?

Allora non è un ridursi a bensì un elevarsi a! L’amore per l’altro essere oltre che per il proprio è la ragione della vita, il suo significato primo e ultimo, la sua causa e il suo scopo. 

Sì, sì io voglio prendere la patente, studiare tante belle cose e indagare l’universo, andare a correre, allenarmi al campetto, disegnare, suonare la chitarra e il violoncello, innamorarmi di te baciarti e abbracciarti e accompagnarti e ascoltarti, andare a mostre di Chagall e concerti dei 2cellos con voi, ballare alla luce della luna o sotto i fari del palazzo della regione a ritmo con le melodie di Tchaikowsky o sulle note di una mazurka, cucinare per la mia famiglia e sedermi a tavolta a chiaccherare durante i pasti, andare in Svezia in Norvegia in FInlandia in India in Nepal in Afghanistan, dappertutto, rivedere gli amici che sono dall’altra parte del mondo, rendere felice qualcuno, migliorare un pezzetto di questo pianeta, amare dal profondo e fino in fondo… Ma prima lasciatemi dormire ancora un po’, prima lasciatemi stravaccata su questo divano ancora un po’, prima lasciate che i miei occhi si consumino fissi sullo schermo ancora un po’, prima lasciatemi crogiolare nel fango ancora un po’…

"Ci pareva di fare gran che a uscir di sera, a saltare sul treno in paese per tornare in città. Si aspettava qualcosa che non veniva mai".

(ti voglio bene. 

lo prometto a me stessa

che ti vedrò presto).

Come cambia il filtro atraverso cui vedo ciò che mi circonda quando coloro che mi stanno accanto mi dimostrano amore. Amore senza rimproveri, senza accuse, senza rabbia.

Fratello ha quasi diciotto anni. Ogni mattina madre gli prepara i vestiti da indossare, ogni mattina se questi non sono già pronti sulla sedia fratello le urla dalla cucina, mentre mangia i biscotti, di dirgli che cosa devi mettersi… Stasera deve uscire e madre, stranamente, non c’è, fratello allora la chiama al cellulare con gran fretta e stizzito (perché l’aveva già avvertita che doveva uscire alle 18.15  e che lei sarebbe dovuta tornare prima per darle i vestiti) per farsi dire cosa indossare…………………………………………………………………

MA È NORMALE? o.O

Haha haha haha già (cit.)

Mi sento proprio soddisfatta dopo una conversazione con A. in cui ho dovuto citarlo in tribunale perché non mi voleva dare il premio per aver trovato l’errore in una serie di lettere, e questo perché l’azienda era fallita e aveva un grosso debito e i dipendenti erano stati messi in cassa integrazione, azienda di Saturno, è venuto fuori, pianeta i cui abitanti fumano diverse erbe ma soprattutto gli animali, e su cui ci sono isole che non ci sono ma questo succede probabilmente perché i saturniani, che sono italiani immigrati lì nell’ottocento, si autofumano anche se non si piacciono e infatti A. ha finito coll’aspirare l’ultimo soffio di se stesso estinguendosi in una misera infima minuscola singolarità..

Pranzo che appaga occhi e palato!
3

Pranzo che appaga occhi e palato!

Tiñese de matizes doradas

este manto de ojas,

arcoiris perecedero y fragil,

es la obra de tus rayos

querida estrella cercana,

nuestro sol y fuente de vida,

que este dia resplandeciente de luz diafana

aún calientas y con tu calor nos mimas

¡O otoño de mil colores y sabores

eres alegria para mi corazon cansado!

Soy como una sombra enamorada
de ese sol caliente y lejano 
al que nunca podrá tocar
sin dejar de ser sí misma

Apaga mis enojos,
pues que ninguno basta a deshacedlos,
y véante mis ojos,
pues eres lumbre de ellos,
y sólo para ti quiero tenerlos.

Cuando tú me mirabas,
su gracia en mí tus ojos imprimían;
por eso me adamabas,
y en eso merecían
los míos adorar lo que veían.

I think I see you at all times in mind’s eye

Ero felice ed ero contenta, proprio allora, proprio lì.
Era illogica allegria.

Ora illogica malinconia.

Quado la fiamma comicia a tremolare e ad affievvolirsi, perché ha iniziato a piovigginare e il vento sembra volerla spazzare via, si può scegliere di alimentarla con dell’altra legna secca, di proteggerla un po’ finchè non cresce abbastanza da poter resistere ai turbinii dell’aria e alla pioggia, finchè non si manifesta impetuosa in un fuoco che scalda e illumina la notte, o si può scegliere di darle il colpo di grazia, di sottrarle la poca legna rimasta, spegnerla con un soffio, osservarla scompararire e ritrovarsi al freddo e al buio.